Except One
by RositaKittyPrecious2k16
Summary: Strictly P.J.Hogan's 2003 Live Action Peter Pan. (Jeremy S and Rachel H-W) To everyone out there who wondered where their happily ever after went, here's their second chance. Will they take it? A little something something to sink your teeth into. The magic continues...
1. Chapter 1

**((A/N: Hey  
I wanted to include a small explanation here. Basically I watched the 2003 film, and decided that neither ending was enough, as most people on this website probably understand. I got the urge to write and roughly 25,000 words later I find myself posting this first chapter.  
They're quite short, but I post often so stay tuned.  
**Regular= Wendy's p.o.v. **Bold = Peter's p.o.v. _Bold Italic = 3rd character p.o.v.  
_ Enjoy! Author Out.))**

 **CHAPTER 1**

The sound of her 06:30am alarm woke Wendy Darling from her dreaming. The images began to fade, but she knew where she had been. It was the same place she was every night. The place that got harder to leave every morning…

Wendy would have most people believe that she was a perfectly ordinary young woman. Yes, she did live in relative comfort, they even had electric lights in the hall, but she wasn't rich. She had a good education, and hoped one day to attend a university, but was hardly top of her class. She was also in love, as most young women her age with tender hearts were wont to be. However, Wendy's love was what made her different. Most girls she knew were in love with young men from across the road, perhaps their good friend's older brother… one had even told her she was hopelessly in love with her mathematics tutor… But Wendy's heart belonged to someone of an entirely different sort. Someone she'd met in a make-believe world, far away from houses and jobs, education and responsibility.

She often supposed that was why she hadn't ever been able to get over him. His world was entirely his own, there was simply nothing and no one to compare him to. He had shown her things she could scarcely believe the wonder of, in spite of them being before her very eyes, and his mere existence had left a whole in her life almost as big as the adventure they had shared. She also wondered what people would think, if they knew she was still had feelings for him after all this time. In the end she knew well that her affections surpassed those of admiration and friendship, and given his life in a world where he never aged, she had outgrown him by a full 5 years already. She had grown taller, and somewhat wiser given her new responsibilities with her education and job prospects. Her hair had also grown thicker after she had had it cut to shoulder length for the sake of looking more 'professional' as Aunt Millicent had put it. That said, she had altogether given up on her Aunt's idea of finding a suitor. She couldn't bare the thought of something as mundane as a husband. She had rebuffed her Aunt at every opportunity on that point. Wendy's 12 year old heart simply would not allow it. She had reasoned and argued with herself, but no matter how hard she fought not to, she still longed to see _him._

When she arrived downstairs for breakfast, Michael and John were already eating, Michael scribbling wrong answer after wrong answer on a scrappy homework sheet, determined to make progress. She worried that somewhere in the back of his mind he was struggling too: putting all of his time into his work so as to fill some void she couldn't see. She left them to their work and locked the door behind her but stopped for a moment as the lock clicked shut. Her hand touched the corner of her mouth, remembering.

When she and her brothers had first returned home, through the air into their shared bedroom, their mother and Father had come at once waiting with baited breath to hear of where on earth they'd been. As it had happened they hadn't been on earth at all… Or, at least that's what she had assumed. Their parents had taken their explanation without question, just glad to have them home, even if they were accompanied by a ragtag group of muddy young strangers. However, times changed. As the years passed the number of people they tried to tell dwindled due to receiving strange comments from neighbours about the well-being of their family and the decision to adopt such a large group of orphans. Before long Mother and Father had started to brush off the story, piece by piece. Each time it came up less and less seemed to be heard.

" _These 'pirates' you saw, they sound like some kind of gang…"_

" _Yes, but I'm sure you weren't actually 'flying',"_

" _If you thought about it hard enough you'd recognise the place now… Perhaps one of those exotic foreign coffee houses in Soho…"_

" _How many times must I say it, 'Nibs' was a name given to him by the orphanage,"_

And so the trend continued until vicious rumours about everyone involved began to surface. As if to make matter worse, it soon became clear that the Darling family wouldn't be able to take on the boys after all. Despite the magic and even the memory of how they had arrived having faded, the connection between their family and the boys was tangible. All adoptive families were carefully selected under scrutiny of both parents, and only allowed to move with all three Darling children's approval.

After that it had almost become a house rule not to bring anything of Neverland or their journey into conversation. Even so, Wendy had gotten into a fight with an 11 year old Michael the following year, leading to a comment about how he should have stayed in Neverland indefinitely. At that point Mother had heard, but seemed to miss the reference completely. What was more worrying though was John, who acted as if she'd said something completely ridiculous _. "You're going to insult him with children's stories? Grow up, Wendy."_ Coming from brothers 5 and 3 years her junior she would have found that comment amusing at the time. If it hadn't been for the heart breaking reality behind it, of course. Truth be told they _had_ grown up since then, but whether that was due to natural factors or gradually losing the most notable part of their childhood Wendy couldn't say. She had been through so much pain losing Peter, and all of Neverland with him. But having her family forget that she had even been in the first place: That was like losing it all over again.

When she realised that she herself might forget, she began frantically writing diaries, some progressing into journals from the sheer volume of their contents. It wasn't quite the three-part novel she had planned as a child but that was one dream she didn't have room for anymore, and as Aunt Millicent said, there was _nothing so difficult to marry_ _as a novelist_. She would sit with her journals almost every night, occasionally she would fill a blank space with a doodle or drawing, the shape of Hook's ship, fairy wings. Once or twice she had simply written something Peter had said to her, a few words that made her heart skip. She remembered their last conversation as clearly as the day it had been spoken:

' _Peter… You won't forget me… will you_?' She remembered asking desperately.

' _Me? Forget?... Never_.'… And yet… He was gone. His sad face lingered in her head. She had seen it then and thought certainly that he would return. It was part of the reason she was able to let him fly away that night.

She took the steps down to the road and turned the corner, when she heard a familiar voice.

"Oh, hello there. I didn't see you."

"Hello Solomon," She replied politely, keeping up appearances. For whose sake she didn't know anymore. "How are things?"

"Oh you know, studying hard." He replied in his usual chipper voice. "I got that book seller to take me on, I don't know if I-" His face fell slightly, as if he had just remembered something important. "Sorry I don't suppose you're interested in those kinds of things…"  
Seeing the lost boys around her home was a painful souvenir each time they remembered her name but seemingly forgot how they met. Thankfully most had been moved away with their new families: all but Slightly, re-christened ' _Solomon_ ' by Aunt Millicent and her new partner. As was her Aunt's nature, the scruffy Neverland boy had been transformed into a neat young apprentice, nails sparkling clean and hair slicked back as he went about his daily duties. That said, his etiquette was as flawless as it had ever been.

"Anyway, must be off. Lovely seeing you again- err" he trailed off looking puzzled. Wendy couldn't bare to watch him forget her name entirely, so she cut him off.

"Yes it was lovely Solomon, let's catch up again soon" she suggested, as she always did, bustling past.

She had thought she was having more luck with him, as despite all else being lost he had related to her as his adoptive cousin. But now that didn't seem to be enough either. He was drifting away just like the others. On one encounter she even tried calling out his old name from across the street, but got no response, and so gave up hope entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

On good days Wendy would wonder if there was something different about her, if that was why she was the only one who could remember their adventure. On bad days she would question her very sanity, realising that there was no one left to reassure her that it had happened at all. She contemplated the idea of her coming to her senses in a mad house raving about _her Peter_ , and the Fairies. She shook her head not wanting to dwell on it. And yet in that far away land real or not is where her heart would be, forever it seemed.

Walking at a more brisk pace than usual, still bothered by her encounter with Solomon, she soon arrived at the door of the Bloomsbury green grocers wanting to forget it all. A hard day's work usually helped, and so she waved cheerily at Mrs Davis, the owner, through the window before letting herself in.

...

 _ **In a small house not too far from the Darling residence, a boy of 8 looked wistfully out of his bedroom window, hugging his knees. He had been grounded for telling lies to his mother, and so had nothing left to do but sit out his punishment. He looked up at the stars as they appeared one by one in the sky, the light fading slowly to reveal them. That was, until something else entirely occurred in the twilight.**_

 _ **A flash of blue and violet caught his eye, and he heard the dull rumble of a far off explosion, so faint he couldn't be sure if it had been real or just a figment. His eyes grew wide as a speck of light descended from the heavens. The boy instantly jumped to his feet.**_

" _ **Mother! Mother!" The woman soon trudged up to the bedroom door, swinging it open with contempt.**_

" _ **Yes Harold?"**_

" _ **Mother something just exploded, up there in the sky! I think it was a star- maybe a fallen star! Over there, look!"**_

 _ **The woman looked at her son disapprovingly. "Harold, if you think making up some fantastical tale about exploding skies is going to get you out of being grounded you are sorely mistaken. Now, stop it or you'll be having no supper."**_

" _ **But Mo-"**_

" _ **Harold." She said sternly.**_

 _ **Harold did as he was told and sat down hard on his bed, defeated.**_

 **...**

Wendy arrived home late that night, having thoroughly overworked to keep her mind from more troubling matters. She'd readily volunteered to stay alone in the green grocers to do inventory as a favour to Mrs Davis, which seemed to impress the woman immensely, but before long the numbers had begun to blur together and the sky had grown dark outside. She considered that staying any longer would probably do the shop more harm than good when she fell asleep without closing up suitably, and so decided it was time to head home. She didn't have any apologies to say when she arrived as John and Michael were thankfully studying, which was all they seemed to do nowadays. That allowed her to walk to her now private room, the old nursery, in peace. Once there she lazily shed her outer clothes and fell straight into bed as she was, exhausted. She was able to fall into a deep restful sleep, sparing her from her usual fantastical dreams and make-believe encounters.

...

Wendy walked downstairs in yesterday's clothes, bleary eyed but rested. She saw Michael sitting at the table with his pen and paper, but no John. It was unlike him to sleep in. She shrugged it off and took some bread from the cabinet, lighting the grill. She sat against the kitchen counter and thought about what she had potentially missed in last night's inventory. It was a few minutes of staring into space before she realised that Michael was staring back at her.

"Michael?" Wendy began, watching the 13 year old warily. "Are you okay?"

Wendy knew her brother had a tendency to be absent minded, but he had grown out of it gradually over the years. With his growth spurts his face had changed, meaning his lisp had all but gone. This lead to him having a comparatively adult character, but with his relatively unchanged hair and freckled cheeks Wendy would always see him as her littlest brother no matter how big he got. So when she saw something out of place, she became concerned very quickly.

His pen lay neatly on the table, unused, his paper unmarked. He squinted at her suspiciously but gave no response, so she tried again. "Do you need the day off? You know, Mother and Father won't be back for another couple of weeks yet, so if there's something wrong you must tell me, I'll do my best to help." She offered in her most reassuring voice. Perhaps it was school trouble. She had never been any good at helping there but she supposed if she could maintain some adult composure she could talk to someone on her parents' behalf.

"Wendy…" there was something awfully vulnerable about his voice that caught her attention immediately. "Wendy, how long has it been?" Wendy waited for more, but nothing came.

"What do you mean Michael, since what?"

"How long has it been, since we got back… Since we came back from…"

He looked so confused. She walked over to the table cautiously, leaving her toast to go cold on the grill.

"Michael… What -"

"-Neverland?"

Wendy's legs gave way slightly, sitting her down on the chair opposite him with a thump.

"Michael… You remember." She whispered.

"I don't know, I don't really understand. I couldn't remember what anything looked like or in what order it happened, but now… it's so clear."

"I think you might have what I have, old chap" a third voice cut in, walking down the steps with a pained expression on his face.

"John, you look awful." Wendy noted.

"I feel awful. I didn't sleep a _wink_ last night. It was just one long hallucination. My head just exploded with sounds and colours and bloody pirate ships…" He said ruefully. "The cannon fire gave me a splitting headache."

"Whose pirate ship..?" Wendy waited with baited breath.

"Who? Well Hook's of course."

"You do remember!"

"I… I suppose I do…" John answered in a doubtful tone. He seemed to suffer another wave of his migraine and stumbled to the kitchen sink to get himself a glass of water. Wendy felt giddy. This meant she wasn't crazy, and most of all it meant she could speak to them again, like her brothers, the brothers she knew before the accusations and rumours surfaced, separating them from her. Before she had a chance to interrogate them, however, she saw the time on the wall clock.

"I'm late," She muttered as she made for the stairs to find new clothes. As she passed the kitchen entrance on her way out again she called back hastily. "John, Michael, I'll be back as soon as I can! We'll talk then!" And with that, she shut the door firmly behind her. This had to be the best thing that had happened to her in months. She couldn't wipe the silly grin from her face as she skipped the steps two at a time. She wasn't concentrating as she jogged round the corner and so almost knocked someone off their feet entirely. "Oh lord, I'm so sorry-" She began, coming to her senses.

"Oh no don't worry it's…" the voice trailed off. "My god… How long as it been?" they asked incredulously.

Wendy looked up to see Solomon half way through gathering his belongings from the pavement.

"Oh, sorry Solomon, that was entirely my fault."

"Solomon..?"

"I have to go, let's catch up again soon okay?" The empty comment was made with genuine cheer for once.

"I… well okay I suppose." He said, smiling. "I'll see you later Wendy-lady." And he walked ahead.

Wendy's mouth hung open. She watched him suspiciously until he had almost walked out of sight, then a thought occurred to her. It was a stretch, but it wouldn't be the strangest thing that had happened today.

"Slightly!" She called after him.

"Yes?" He turned looking back enthusiastically.

"Uh, nothing I… I'll meet you at your house later, okay? There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Fine with me. Shall we say eight?"

"Agreed."

Wendy watched his back as he walked away, her head spinning. Her grin had returned.

Her day at the Green Grocers dragged on and on, customer after customer, and once again the sunlight had begun to dim as she hastily grabbed her belongings and bid her farewell to Mrs Davis, jogging as she set off for home.

 **...**

 **((A/N: *EDIT* - I know this is only the second chapter, but I have come back to visit you, reader, from the future. (Chapter 21)  
I want to tell you that no matter where it may be: early chapter, late chapter, the first or last chapter you decide to read, or the last chapter published as the story inevitably becomes classified as 'complete'... All feedback is welcome. Any comment or reaction is appreciated. Please keep that in mind should you choose to read on. Please and Thank you.))**


	3. Chapter 3

**((A/N: Now, I mentioned that this is a 'strictly P.J's movie' fiction. Meaning I want to write by each character's _style,_ as was set in the film by each actor. That said, Peter's voice is an ENIGMA wrapped in bacon. An A _merican_ actor, an _English_ script, a transition through _puberty_ , more than one _impression_ he was scripted, and constant contention with a multitude of co-stars sporting regional British accents, not to mention _Pirate slang_.  
**

 **So what I mean to say is, try to concentrate on a soft American accent even when he uses a smattering of English words... Author Out.))**

 **CHAPTER 3**

Wendy walked through the front door looking for any sign of her brothers.

"Michael?" she called into the kitchen, "John?" No reply came. She was a little disappointed, having waited all day to speak to them, but decided to take her things up to her room for the mean time. She kicked off her shoes and trudged up the steps. At the end of the corridor she turned right and pushed open her door with a free elbow. Apart from when she did, it wasn't her room. At least, not exactly. John sat at the window sill hugging a bent leg looking out at nothing in particular. Michael sat on her bed holding his tattered old teddy bear up to the light as if looking for something hidden in it. The bed had been moved, back to where it had been when the three shared the nursery. The contents of various boxes that the two had come to find had been strewn around the floor. A child's pirate hat sat in the centre of the room.

John saw her. "Wendy, do you remember? The ship… The island, the clouds"

"Hook." Michael added. "The Fairies…"

She didn't know what to say, so for a moment she just smiled.

"I never forgot…" The two boys looked at her incredulously, almost in awe. She walked over to sit beside John on the windowsill, looking over the room nostalgically. A wave of relief washed over her, able to finally speak her mind. "I didn't know what was happening either… Mother and Father stopped believing us, and I thought you were just trying to be good boys following their lead… I didn't know what to do. I was scared I was going to forget too." The moonlight broke through the clouds and cast a long shadow of Wendy onto the carpet. John and Michael were listening intently. She almost felt as though she had become their story teller again, only, they'd grown out of that soon after the magic had gone. "I wanted to go back… so badly… But we couldn't. With no Peter…" Saying his name out loud made her heart ache. "He said he'd never forget… That he'd come to visit, for stories."

From the roof came a gentle squeak, once… twice. The boys looked up at the noise, curious, but Wendy looked down instead glad of the distraction. There were some things the boys wouldn't understand, she knew that. She felt a tear roll down her cheek. She quickly caught it with the back of her hand, blinking her eyes clear as she looked up to reassure the boys she was okay. But they weren't looking at her at all. Michael's face was frozen, his mouth hanging open. John was equally distracted.

"Uh… Wendy…"

"What..? What is it?"

She followed their gaze to the window and stood abruptly. There was something on the other side of the window pane, a figure, blocking out the moonlight. At first Wendy presumed a bird, given that they were on the second floor, but it wasn't perched and so the eerie steadiness of it didn't make sense. Then she noticed that it was glowing… not glowing, but shimmering… She tried to make out more detail as her eyes adjusted to the strange light, and then she saw. The light was something she recognised. She saw the familiar luminescent trail of sparkling dust as it fell from a cloud of fairies. They seemed to be supporting what she could now see was a person... And then she could see a ragged t shirt, and half length shorts… And a cloth sash, concealing a dozen full pockets. She could make out the dagger handle that protruded from his shoulder blade. Then she saw him. That face… He seemed to be waiting on some signal…

She came to her senses and rushed forward throwing the window upward and open, at which point he toppled inside almost as if being thrown. He landed unceremoniously on the carpet, covering his head and achieving a forward roll. The light left him almost at once, fleeing out of the open window, lingering just long enough for the boy to yell a quick 'Thank you!', and then they were gone. A handful of fairy dust gradually faded on the sill until there was no evidence that they had been there at all.

Wendy dreamily pulled the window shut. John and Michael stood on one side of the room, Peter sat on the other. He looked at the three of them for a moment, and then stood abruptly placing both hands on his hips defiantly. He was facing John.

"Oh, it's you." He relaxed. "I didn't recognise you all… different." He said the word like he was concealing an insult. He casually lifted the sash over his head and let it drop to the floor, clinking as it settled. "I thought you were Wendy's Husband."

"-how old do you think I am?" John cut in, mystified.

"…Peter" Wendy's voice was faint, barely a whisper, but he heard. He turned to her, his piercing eyes lingering on her face.

"Oh- you don't have a husband, do you?" Peter said dropping his gaze suddenly, trying to hide his haunted expression. "I… I understand if he's here, I should… leave."

He took a quick step forward seemingly intending to leave out of the same window, but before he could get very far Wendy had blocked his path. She stood in front of him with wide eyes, raising a hand, then pausing, before gently touching his face.

"Peter, it's really you…" Wendy whispered. Peter's eyes looked unfocused. He didn't speak a word, and so Wendy just stood there looking up at him… And then she realised: she was looking up at him. That didn't make sense given the years head start she'd had. "Peter, you've…" She wanted to say 'grown taller,' but when she really looked she could see he'd done more than grow taller… His height seemed to have stretched him out, leaving a lean strong body. His shoulders were broad, his jaw defined and mature… His hair was still the same dishevelled mess of golden locks, but it had grown out somewhat. She noticed too that the goofy smile she remembered, which had been so charming on the small boy, had been replaced with an elegant smirk.

Wendy's hand left his face dreamily, and rested on his shoulder, almost afraid to let go. She found it surprising that he was warm to the touch. He didn't look like the boy she remembered, but she knew. There was no one else who could pull off such an entrance, and she could see his smoky turquoise eyes hadn't changed one bit. She could see that those eyes were searching her face in much the same way.

"Wendy… you… you changed..."

"Oh… Yes." She felt unreasonably guilty for it, he gaze falling. "I'm sorry… I had to gro-"

"I thought you'd be wearing a dress…" He was looking at her with a hesitant smile. She was still in her work uniform. She had never really thought, but of course Peter had only ever seen her in her nightdress. The idea should have been embarrassing, but somehow it was commonplace to her. Where they had gone they didn't follow such rules. What did it matter what clothes you were wearing, as long as you could run, and fight, and…

"Peter, what were those fairies doing..?"

"Oh… that." He looked away with a pained expression, "I… It was nothing…" That only made her more curious.

"But, why didn't you just fly-?" Wendy stopped, hearing herself speak. What sort of a question was that? What was she doing…? This was ridiculous… She stepped back a few paces, withdrawing her hand. She vaguely remembered a novel she had read about the power of delusions. It was something she had developed a curiosity for after Peter's disappearance, from her life as well as everyone's memory. It had contained warnings about dwelling on fantasy and obsession… And now here she was hallucinating in her own bedroom. She looked at Michael and John for help. They were looking back at her worriedly, which only increased her suspicion. No, this was something she had to deal with directly, she knew from her reading. That was how you cured such afflictions. She looked at the image of Peter in front of her. "Peter… No, you can't be here." She told it.

His face fell as he looked at her, his smile fading. The sight tugged at her heart strings more than she had been expecting it to... ' _Leave'…_ She couldn't bring herself to say it… Maybe she wasn't ready to face this after all.

"I… I have to clear my head." She ran for the door leaving a dejected Peter in her wake, slamming it behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

 **Times had been hard for Peter back in Neverland. At first all was fine: He was quite content going back to the way things were, ruling the skies, swashbuckling with the remainder of Hook's sorry crew whenever he encountered them.**

 **The problem was, they seemed to be avoiding him. Why wouldn't they, he supposed. They knew Peter for the superior opponent he was. But, with the lost boys gone, there was now almost nothing to keep him distracted. He would get too easily lost in his thoughts, and more often than not, they would be about Wendy. Tinkerbell had called it 'pining', though Peter didn't really understand. Wendy was his happiest thought, and all he needed was happy thoughts. And so he would spend most days preoccupied with plans to visit, wondering what new story she would tell him… But it never lasted long. Each time he brought her to mind, he would eventually remember the harsh truth: Things wouldn't be the same. He was to choose between two lives: One was a life where he would forget her, free of worries and responsibility, but alone. The other was a life in which he visited her again, but had to bear watching her grow up without him.**

 **The thought made him nervous and before he knew it, Wendy, his happiest thought, couldn't keep him in the air. He could fly, but each time he tried to touch the clouds; to escape to the heavens, he started to doubt himself. What if he arrived only to find she had already started to forget him? More disturbing, what if she remembered, but the day came that she no longer** ** _wanted_** **to see him? Things only got worse when he realised he had become physically unable to reach her in the other world, whether he had decided to try or not. The other islanders had started to notice, but Peter wouldn't accept it. He was fine as long as he could fly.**

 **That was, until the day came that he couldn't.**

 **He had resolved to fly out from the cliff at the far north of the island, up and out, toward that twinkle on the horizon that meant Wendy. He was going to prove once and for all that there was nothing wrong with him. Once he saw her, all his doubts would be laid to rest. He psyched himself up, took a running start and leapt. He tried to keep his head clear, his heart lifting at the thought of approaching her open window… but then came other images. A man standing beside her, his hand on her shoulder. Hook's voice echoed in his head:** ** _Husband._** **He fought to keep altitude, shaking his head desperately.** ** _Why should she stay?_** **Behind his eyes Wendy was dancing with some faceless man he couldn't see.** ** _Leaving you…_** **The window was closing before he could reach it.** ** _Another, in your place... You are..._** ** _Incomplete…_** **He reached out a frantic hand toward his goal, but then it was Wendy speaking…** ** _You're just a boy…_** **and then it was too late. He felt himself falling, plummeting from an impossible height. The last thing Peter remembered seeing was the cold water rushing up to meet him as he plunged into the ocean.**

 **He had awoken in the Tribe leader's tepee, having been rescued from the shore. His body was aching all over, and he felt nauseous, but thankfully nobody was there. He couldn't bare the thought of people seeing him this weak. He instinctively tried to take off, but instead had to run from the camp taking refuge in his hideout hoping to fix whatever had gone wrong before anybody else had to know. However Tink was there, as always. She knew him far too well to be fooled.**

 **The other fairies had started to come to him in waves after that. Peter had no doubt it was Tinkerbell's work, but their shoddy interrogations and advice only soured his mood. One had asked him if he still wished to fly which of course he did; another whether he had been exposed to any dangerous plants, which was stupid because Peter knew of every plant on that island and if there was a new one the Indians would have told him so. The Indians had also come to try a collection of herbal potions and sleep tonics. At one point the two groups had come together to practically bathe him in fairy dust until it became too much and he had started sneezing violently. The fact that none of it worked only deepened his despair, and he just couldn't bare to be around them all any more. He had shut himself in his hideaway wanting to be alone with his thoughts, but it was his own thoughts that were plaguing him. No matter how strong the sleeping tonics got he still heard Hook's voice over and over in his dreams…** ** _Incomplete… You are incomplete…_**

 **Then one night it was as though he couldn't take the torment any longer. He awoke suddenly gasping for air and clutching his chest as if to prevent something from escaping. He had an immense fever and at one point was convinced he was going to die. It was at that moment that things had taken a turn for the truly bizarre. Something was different,** ** _wrong_** **with the island; it was making him ill. He woke up seemingly every night after that with chills and pains all over only to rise the next day feeling stronger than ever. The other islanders also seemed to be behaving strangely, making comment after comment about the weather, becoming startled at the sight of him, asking strange questions about his eating habits and whether he'd taken some new medicine. His clothes also suffered presumably due to the unstable temperatures, becoming shrunken and weak. Each day he would find some new tear and have to repair it, until Tink ordered him to find something new entirely. This went on for a while until Tiger Lily came to him. She found him perched on a low branch of a tree in the heart of the forest where he'd been daydreaming. She poked him hard in the side and told him in her tribe's Indian tongue that they needed to talk.**

 **"What's wrong?"**

 **"Peter… have you noticed what's been happening on the island recently?"**

 **"I don't know… It's different."**

 **"It's not just different… Look at the trees, Peter. They're taller. The weather, it's hotter"**

 **"So? Isn't that better than snow? All the fairies say so."**

 **"That's not the point. In all your time have you ever known a Neverland tree to get taller?"**

 **"I guess not…"**

 **"There's more…" She led him through the trees, past the Indian camp and out toward Pirate Cove. "What do you see?"**

 **"The sea…" He said lamely.**

 **"No, really look." She turned him to face the shore. There he saw the water that fed into the open ocean. Peter knew it well: Crocodile Creek. Apart from it wasn't a creek anymore, it was a torrent… The water was toppling over rocks at a dangerous speed, and a waterfall had developed giving off a faint roar that he'd never heard here before. He turned back to Tiger Lily as she nodded knowingly, and then as she pointed out into the water. "Do you see those islands?"**

 **She was right, there were two… No, three separate islands protruding from the surface of the water in the distance. Ones Peter didn't recognise, which was almost an impossibility in Neverland as Peter knew his home like the back of his hand. But there they were. They seemed to be connected below the surface, and already had a covering of green foliage and bright flowers, even trees.**

 **"What…?" Peter didn't understand, looking to Tiger for help.**

 **"All those islands appeared since you stopped being able to fly. And that's not all. The stars have been shifting, Peter. Some glowing brighter than we've ever seen. The elders have been mapping them."**

 **"Why would they… I don't-"**

 **"I know… we don't fully understand either. But one thing seems to be clear. Things are changing, and we know nothing and nobody to change Neverland the way you do. You're obviously suffering Peter, we've all seen it. And we know why." Peter knew too. But he couldn't bring himself to admit it so openly, so he just nodded stubbornly. "These changes are for a reason, we just don't know what." Peter could still hear the echo…** ** _Incomplete._** **"We think you need to go find some answers on your own. Out there." She looked up at the sky.**

 **"You know I can't." Peter's voice dropped. "I tried… and I fell." He said the word like the failure it was. Tiger Lily just placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.**

 **"** **We spoke to the fairies." She said gladly. "They agreed to help."**

 **...**

 **((A/N: If you've read this far, why not take a minute to review?  
I ain't no psychic, and it's always nice to hear from you guys. Even if it is just "These are the reasons I didn't like this story/chapter"  
Please and Thankyou))**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Peter was sceptical about the plan at first. He knew the fairies had been able to lift the weight of the entire ship, but in some way that was different… It had been** ** _huge_** **; all of them had been on hand. How many fairies was there really room for on his small being. Not to mention, the Roger was an object, whose entire crew could have surely flown to safety regardless, so what was the worst that could have happened? He knew that fairy dust couldn't help him now so the idea of lifting his flightless self up into the clouds and through into the other world filled him with anxiety. He said as much to Tinkerbell, but she replied by blowing a 10 second raspberry at him for not trusting her to get the job done, which was hard to argue with. He didn't have his regular clothes anymore, so he spent the whole of the previous day putting together a new belt where he could store his essentials. At least, that's what he told Tink. In reality he just didn't want to feel so unprepared, and if he was occupied then he wouldn't have time to back out. When the time came they had managed to get him into the air, but when he felt his second foot lose contact with the earth of the cliff, he felt real dread for the first time in a long while. He instinctively tried to steady himself, but this only made things harder for his tiny helpers. He was banned thereafter from moving, and so had to occupy his mind as the journey went ahead, effectively as a floating ragdoll.**

 **He thought about what he would say… Whether he should go straight in or wait to watch a while... In all this, he had assumed all would be as it had been, that he would arrive to an excited Wendy in her nightgown ready to find adventure. He imagined them sword fighting together, exploring somewhere new… But of course, all those images involved him flying away with her. He had to hold onto hope. If he ever would again, it would be with her. But as he filled his mind with happy thoughts, as was his habit in the air, he forgot about the possibility of finally reaching her only to see someone else. A tall figure, sat beside her at the window. His stomach knotted up and he considered admitting defeat there and then, unable to bear the thought of meeting whoever it was: this person who could grow up with his Wendy. Then all of a sudden she was there, looking straight at him, and he couldn't keep himself away. He couldn't deny he had been unexpectedly relieved at finding her brothers and not this Husband that Hook had tormented him with.**

 **He had had so much more to say in those moments, but suddenly she had been so close. He was able to make out all the little details of her face, old and new. Things that had faded in his dreams like the way her eyes opened in wonder the way they had when she first saw him fly. And there were others, things he had never had the chance to know: the way her cheekbones had emerged flawlessly to give her a new diamond shaped face. He wanted to tell her all about what was happening on the island, tell her to come away with him to see it for herself, but he was cut off by his own nerves. The way she said his name seemed different now. It rendered him effectively unable to move, unable to speak. As if that wasn't enough, the sensation of her hand on him had set his skin on fire, but he didn't understand why. They had danced and fought, and on the day he had last seen her she had laid with him on the ship deck, her hand on his chest. He remembered it vividly. But this was different. Her delicate woman's hand had been on him and suddenly he couldn't breathe.**

 **It had never occurred to him back on the ship. Even when she'd… Peter found himself becoming hopelessly lost in his thoughts then: into the memory of what had happened back on Hook's ship… It was a memory he revisited often, but somehow now standing in the very same house as Wendy, having met her anew in the flesh, the memory of their tender moment had caused his heart to skip several beats. His words hadn't come out right after that. Then when she had stepped away rom him suddenly, he didn't know what to make of it. Her expression changed suddenly and it had caught him off guard. He wanted to tell her to wait, to stay. But she was gone.**

 **...**

 ** _The two boys shifted their feet awkwardly, still in shock of what, or rather who they were seeing._**

 ** _"Uh.. Peter…" John tried hesitantly. "Peter?"_**

 ** _Peter's mind was seemingly absent as he stood rooted to the spot where Wendy had left him, face a little flushed._**

 ** _"Peter…?" Michael started, waving a hand in front of his face. But before he could go any further Peter stumbled away from his little brother absentmindedly and dropped onto Wendy's bed squeezing his eyes shut and running his hands through his hair. He let out a groan of frustration._**

 ** _"Wow." John began to Michael apparently bringing Peter back into the room. "He's almost exactly the same as I remember."_**

 ** _Peter seemed to finally realise that he had company. His eyes snapped open as he jumped back up, placing his hands on his hips triumphantly. "'Course I am." He said, a childlike quality still present in his grin. "Wait," His grin faded, "What do you mean almost?" Peter inquired suspiciously._**

 ** _Michael and John looked at each other, and then at Peter, with his obviously adult sized body._**

 ** _"But Peter, you're…" John left a pause trying to describe what exactly had happened to him, but Peter took advantage and jumped in._**

 ** _"Back, I know isn't it great? Anyway," Peter continued his curiosity apparently gone, not paying John and Michael a great deal of notice, as per usual. "Where are all the lost boys?" He asked, wandering around the room curiously as if expecting to find them hidden under a bed or perhaps sleeping in a cupboard._**

 ** _"Oh," Michael began. John couldn't help but return his brother's awkward glance, just now realising quite how much he had forgotten over the years. "We… don't really see them anymore…" Peter seemed to be only half listening as he explored the nursery. He picked up the pirate hat and looked at it, trying it on his head._**

 ** _"Yes," John continued, trying to keep Peter's attention. "They moved away… All but-"_**

 ** _"Slightly!" Michael gasped._**

 ** _"Solomon" John said simultaneously. They looked at each other, completely bewildered._**

 ** _"Solomon?" Michael tried again._**

 ** _"Slightly!" John realised, his eyes going wide._**

 ** _They both grabbed their heads in pain, as Peter watched on laughing, clutching his stomach._**

 ** _"What is wrong with you?"_**

 ** _"It's all_** **your** ** _fault!" John accused, pointing a finger at Peter._**

 ** _"Me?" he pointed at himself as if to clarify which 'you' he was referring to. "What did I do?" He discarded the pirate hat realising that it mysteriously didn't fit his head as he had expected it to._**

 ** _"You coming back did this! Having to remember everything all at once! No wonder I have a migraine."_**

 ** _"What's a my-grain?" Peter said, a puzzled look crossing his face as he nudged the old jack-in-the-box with his foot. "Wait," He stopped. "You're remembering? That means you, forgot…?" As he said the last word his mood seemed to sink. He turned and spoke to them directly for once. "…Everything?"_**

 ** _"No, not everything" Michael interrupted. "It just didn't seem… real." That didn't seem to help Peters mood, John noted._**

 ** _He tried to clarify, unable to hide his inexplicable guilt. "It was like a story someone else told us… and it got harder and harder to believe." Peter's gaze fell as he listened, looking away as if that would save him from facing the harsh truth._**

 ** _"So... Wendy. She doesn't remember…" John noticed there seemed to be something else to that sentence, something Peter was leaving unsaid… or couldn't say. He watched as Peter walked over to the bed, lightly touching the cover of a book Wendy had left there. The laces used to bind it were loose, hanging over the side of the bedside table._**

 ** _"Actually, she does." John told Peter in a more optimistic tone as his hand gently lifted the front cover. "She says she never forgot."_**

 ** _Peter took in a small breath, surprised. In the book was a skilfully shaded pencil sketch of the Jolly Roger, unmanned except for the small outline of a boy standing on the sail, his sword glinting in the moonlight. Peter's fingertips glanced over the outline of himself as he read her delicate handwriting:_**

 **'** **Me? Forget?'  
'** **Never** **'**

 **...**

 **((A/N: Hey, you've probably gathered from the frequent updates that I have quite a lot ready to post, so I can drip feed it over the next few days. Whether that's more or less frequent will** **probably depend on feedback so if you have any interest at all please favourite (Thanks KaixRaylover)/drop a comment/ follow.  
Author Out))**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Wendy lay motionless under the thick cover of her parents' four poster bed. She'd arrived in the corridor and realised she didn't really have anywhere else to go. Her room was out of the question, and she didn't want to be disturbed when her brothers returned to theirs… But she didn't much like the idea of standing out in the cold either. She wasn't sure what she was hoping to achieve when she made her speedy exit, but whatever it was she was not achieving it. If it was to stop thinking about Peter she most certainly hadn't. If it was to clear her head like she'd claimed, there wasn't much chance of that. She considered sleeping, but when she removed herself from the covers to spy the wall clock it was barely 07:30. And besides that, she wouldn't dare. What would she do when she woke up in her usual bed, having to give up on such a wonderful dream? She couldn't bare the thought of letting it go just yet… Would it really be so bad to have this memory follow her around? It would certainly lighten her mood…

As she lay in the bed contemplating, another notion occurred to her. Could it be that this was all just a regular dream? Did Michael and John really remember? Or had that all been just another plot twist of her cruel imagination? Would she have to go back to being alone, grieving anew for the loss of this image, this bizarre transformation of the Peter that her mind had invented? She went to pinch herself but was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. She supposed, dream or no, she should probably answer. She crept outside, making sure to check the hallway for any sign of the others. She reached the porch and opened the door to a cheerful Solomon. His hair was uncharacteristically messy, but he didn't seem to care. "Hello there. I waited in my house like you said, but it got to 9 o'clock and you still hadn't come." Wendy heard the floorboards creak behind her. "I wondered if you'd forgotten about our…" His voice took a strange turn as he trailed off. "Chat…."

"Sol- I mean, Slightly. Of course, I'm sorry I didn't realise-" She looked around for a clock, but for the second time that day she was being ignored. Slightly's eyes were looking straight over her at the stairs. Wendy had a pretty good idea of who would be standing there, but she moved to one side to reveal him anyway. "Yes, about that-"

"Peter!"

"Aye." Peter replied from the middle of the stairs with a hearty chuckle, hands on hips once again, a wide grin plastered on his face, "T'is me!"

Wendy had to stop herself smiling along. That was what Peter had always been best at: spreading laughter and fun. But laughing at comments made by imaginary people was not a habit that would help her case in the grand scheme of things.

"Don't tell me, you've been here this entire time and didn't think to visit? Not once?" Slightly said indignantly

"No, Stupid." Peter's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I only just got here."

Slightly looked at Peter: His face, his height, his new clothes, before glancing at Wendy. "But, Peter… You're-" Wendy shook her head with an exasperated look, before shrugging.

"I'm what?"

"I don't know what he is." Wendy said quietly, speaking with more honestly than Slightly probably realised.

"Ah…" Slightly sighed addressing Peter. "I think you and I need to have a talk, old friend." He looked back at Wendy hopefully, using the face she _knew_ he used with his real mother to get his way. "I don't suppose… Would you agree to let me stay, for just a while?" Wendy realised that as her parents were away, she was the acting adult for the household, and he was appealing to her as such. "Of course I know it would be an awful intrusion but…"

He left the sentence hanging, giving Wendy time to think. She had promised him a chat, but it was getting late, and Wendy didn't know if she could concentrate just yet. Her mind was still a mess. But, she supposed having another witness in the house would help her with discerning reality from fiction.

"Of course, Slightly. You may stay the night if you wish." She said sweetly, appreciating his respectful tone. It was hard to refuse him when he was blessed with such wonderful charisma naturally, and then further thoroughly trained in the art of being a perfect English gentleman by Aunt Millicent. But what persuaded her most, was that she could see the excitement in his eyes and just couldn't bare to take it away from him.

"Excellent!" he beamed up at Peter as if they'd both just gotten away with something wicked.

"Oh, but what will Aunty say?" Wendy reminded him.

"Oh, yes, Mother." His brow wrinkled in concentration. "She will be wondering what took me so long. Peter," He started curiously, "Where will you be sleeping?"

Peter, sleeping? Of course. Wendy hadn't thought about that.

"In the Nursery." He said as though it were obvious.

"No! Definitely not!" Wendy burst out, feeling the heat creep up her neck. Peter looked at her confused. "I suppose you'd best sleep downstairs. In the living room." She finished decidedly.

"Why do _I_ have to sleep downstairs?"

"Peter! The Nursery is my room now, it would be inappropriate."

"So? It was your room before."

Wendy was lost for words as Slightly laughed at the two of them. "We most definitely need to talk." He said to Peter before turning back to Wendy. "Shall I get my things?"

"Please." Wendy would without doubt need the support.

 **...**

Slightly laid out the bedding Wendy had given him for Peter. "There. That should do the trick." Peter regarded the pile of blankets and cushions on the couch with suspicion from across the room, and then at Slightly. Slightly gestured for him to go ahead, and so Peter walked over and promptly threw his entire body weight onto it. Wendy gasped from the doorway, and hastily hid behind both hands. Thankfully the pillows were sufficient to prevent Peter from injuring himself. She wondered if it was because the two still had a form of understanding: Slightly seemed to know how Peter would judge his new sleeping arrangements, and Peter seemed to trust that Slightly would prepare it accordingly.

"It's no hide out, but it'll do." He declared, rolling over to fold his arms behind his head lazily.

"Glad to hear it." Slightly said, admiring his work.

Wendy looked them over once more concernedly, before nodding a little awkwardly. "Well, I suppose I should bid you gentlemen goodnight."

"Goodnight. Thank you again." Said Slightly, courteous as always.

"Gentlemen?" Peter retorted, scowling. She'd forgotten: The boy who never grew up. Of course the word was unwelcome. Wendy took in his expression, wondering why of all things her subconscious would make imaginary Peter scowl at her like that. She supposed having Peter be disagreeable would be a good way to ease the process of leaving him to return to reality once she woke. Still, she could barely bring herself to do it.

"Oh, err sorry… Goodnight, Peter." His name came out more tenderly than she had expected, and soon she felt the need to flee all over again. She hastily shut the door behind herself and climbed the stairs.

...

 **((A/N: Any good? ~ review. No good? ~ review. There's still time to save it, do it you know you want to. Even if it says 'completed' up there^, I may yet still come back to improve the story for future readers.  
Special Thanks to ****vinitapepperdog1983. Author Out))**


	7. Chapter 7

**((A/N: Back again  
Just a friendly reminder to take Peter's lines with a dollop of 'Murica-ness, and similarly forgive the delightful Slightly for the occasional _americanism_ , wanting to be like his Idol Peter.  
Super Special hugs to Smile-Like-An-Idiot, Author Out))  
**

 **CHAPTER 7**

 **Peter propped his head up on a bent arm and watched the door as he listened to the stairs creak. He sighed heavily. Slightly was sat upright looking at him with an amused face.**

 **"What?" Peter asked raising an eyebrow.**

 **"I know that face." He said meaningfully. "You came back for her, didn't you?"**

 **"Yeah." Peter said indignantly. "So?"**

 **"I can tell these things." He said with closed eyes, crossing his arms over his chest like a wise old man. "For instance, I can also tell that you have no idea what's happened to you."**

 **"What do you mean** ** _happened_** **? Nothing happened."**

 **"Peter, do excuse me, I know it's been a long time, but I've known you for a lot longer. I can tell when you're lying." Peter looked at him with narrow eyes, calling his bluff. Slightly stared back in turn, standing his silent ground.**

 **"Ugh!" Peter huffed, "Fine! But… it's kind of a long story."**

 **Slightly glanced at the grand father clock. He seemed surprised, but then chuckled. "Trust me, we have time."**

 **"Okay… Well, it's Neverland. It changed."**

 **"Changed? What do you mean by change..?" Slightly looked worried. Peter could understand, it was after all the first news Slightly had heard about his old home since he had watched them all being adopted one by one through the window of the nursery.**

 **"Everything… The water, the trees got taller… These islands appeared in the sea to the South… The weather got so hot. The fairies, they love it but,"**

 **"Wait,** ** _new_** **islands? The trees, they** ** _grew_** **? But… Neverland doesn't grow… Peter, when did this start?"**

 **He shrugged "The day I fell from the cliff."**

 **Slightly rubbed his head with a hand. "When was- Woah woah woah, you** ** _fell_** **?" Slightly looked lost. He was looking at him the same way he had back on the ship: after Hook had grounded him.**

 **"Yeah… I…" Peter found it difficult to say, remembering how all the Lost Boys had always looked up to him as the leader: the father of the group back in Neverland. He didn't want him to know how pathetic he'd become. Peter turned his head away as he spoke. "I… I tried to fly, but I couldn't do it."**

 **"Peter, that's…" Slightly didn't finish that sentence. "Why couldn't you fly? Where were your happy thoughts? Where was Tink? Don't tell me she-"**

 **"No nothing like that." Slightly slapped a hand over his chest breathing a sigh of relief. "I had my thoughts too. All I had to do was think of Wendy." Slightly nodded slowly at that, something obviously on his mind but he didn't say what. "They just got," Peter thought for a moment. "Interrupted."**

 **"By what?"**

 **"A voice… Hook's voice. He was saying the same things over and over… All the things he said to me back on the Jolly Roger. And then I started to fall, and when I got back to shore, I couldn't fly. That was when the Island started to change."**

 **"What kinds of things did he say?"**

 **Peter couldn't work out why he suddenly wanted to know about that over the island. Surely that was the more important information. "He said Wendy would leave me."**

 **"And?"**

 **"And that she would be with 'Husband' in the nursery, with the window shut…"**

 **"…Aand?"**

 **"And… that I was** ** _incomplete_** **." Peter remembered the echo of the word.** ** _What do you have to offer her…? You are, incomplete…_** **Peter shook his head to clear it.**

 **Slightly saw his reaction and raised a finger triumphantly. "Aha!"**

 **"What?"**

 **"Don't you see Peter?" Slightly said energetically. Peter just raised his eyebrows at him. "Hook told you that you were incomplete, and that's why you couldn't see Wendy."**

 **"I _know_." He replied, rising his eyebrows at Slightly. That part was obvious. **

**"No but Peter, deep down you wanted to** ** _become_** **complete** **, for Wendy's sake." Peter still wasn't following. Hook had been wrong, he was the fine as he was. "You wanted to be with her but to do that you had to grow, and if you grow, well, Neverland would grow with you."**

 **"Wait, you mean** ** _I_** **caused this?" Peter didn't like where this conversation was going. "That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. I don't grow, I don't grow up I won't you can't make me!" He found himself stood up, without thinking, almost as if he was being threatened. He looked down at his hands, doubt creeping into his mind, but all he saw was how different they looked.**

 **"I don't think you have a choice Peter. I think there's only so much your heart could hold."**

 **Peter placed a hand on his chest. "I don't understand." He hadn't changed. He felt the same as he had when Wendy left… "I…"**

 **But… When Peter really thought about it, he had never felt that way before he first laid eyes on Wendy. At first he was curious, but he knew as soon as she had threatened to leave that he couldn't let her. Not completely. He had kept his version of her hidden somewhere deep down, so that he would never have to let her go. Is that what Slightly meant? Had he had it all bundled up inside of him this entire time? "I just needed to see her. I felt like, if I didn't…" Peter did his best to explain, "If I didn't, my light would go out, like Tink's did. She was my happiest thought. The only reason it stopped working was because I didn't know if she was still here. I had to make sure."**

 **"What if she had been here but was unhappy?" Slightly asked as he raised an eyebrow pointedly at Peter.**

 **Peter thought about that possibility. "Then I would** ** _make_** **her happy."**

 **"And now that you can see she is still here, and she is happy, do you want to return to Neverland?" Slightly asked suspiciously.**

 **Peter didn't know what the right answer was supposed to be. He couldn't figure it out any more, so he told Slightly the honest truth: "…How shall I know that it is still the case tomorrow when I am in Neverland again and I cannot see her?" Peter stated as if it were clear as day. "No. I must be here in case something changes to make her** ** _un-_** **happy."**

 **"And this would be until when exactly?"**

 **Peter thought again. "Until she decides to return to Neverland with me."**

 **"I see." Slightly rubbed his chin. "Yes, I see it clearly now. I know from which illness you suffer."**

 **"Really?" Peter perked up instantly. "What is it? What can I do?" Peter perched himself on the arm of the sofa crossing his legs. He placed his hands on his thighs, leaning forward so as to concentrate on what he would hear next. Perhaps there was hope after all.**

 **Slightly shook his head gravely. "I hear it is a dreadful illness, which can cause terrible suffering and even… death." He said ominously.**

 **"What do I do? There has to be something!" Peter panicked.**

 **"Oh yes. There is a cure. But it is said to be one of the most difficult in this world to attain."**

 **"What is it? Whatever it is,** ** _wherever_** **it is, I can do it! I'll find a way!" He found himself standing again, the thought of a fight making him restless. Peter had faith in his fighting skills; sword in hand he had defeated worse than anything or anyone this boring world could throw at him. The answer had to be here, somewhere, surely. And when he found it there was nothing and no one who could stop him from getting it.**

 **Slightly seemed to accept his resolve, and stood up. He walked over to Peter, his expression grim. He placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. "It's upstairs."**

 **Peter's face became a picture of bewilderment. Slightly seemed to find something funny about that, which Peter couldn't understand at all. He had thought Slightly to be his friend, but what friend would withhold such important information like this. He reached to his sash and placed a hand on his dagger hilt as a warning, causing the Lost Boy to take a few steps back.**

 **"What is it? Tell me!"**

 **"** ** _You_** **are in** ** _love,_** **Peter." Slightly blurted out.**

 **Peter's eyes grew wide, his breath catching in his throat. He knew nothing of it. Love? "That… That's ridiculous. I do not love." How could he have fallen in love? "I have no need of such a thing." He said stubbornly.**

 **"** **No, of course you don't need it. But I think you wanted it. You saw it in Wendy, and you wanted it so badly that you moved all of Neverland to get it. I'm afraid it's true. The only way to end your suffering? You must capture her heart."**


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

 ** _Peter sat there pondering for what seemed like an eternity. Slightly watched on, wondering if he should intervene. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when Peter stood abruptly, startling a squeak out of him. Peter strutted determinedly toward the living room door._**

 ** _"Peter, where are you going?"_**

 ** _"To Wendy. You say I must have her heart. Once I explain that it will fix everything, I know she will give it to me." Peter reached for the doorknob._**

 ** _"Woah there, it's not quite that simple," Slightly grabbed his arm before he could escape. "This isn't buried treasure. You cannot simply fight your way through and take it." He guided Peter back into the room._**

 ** _"… Why not?"_**

 ** _"Because, Peter, she'll never forgive you if you do." He watched Peter's face scrunch in frustration. "And besides, the more violently you pursue it, the harder it will become to get, trust me."_**

 ** _"Then… What am I to do?" He asked desperately. Then his eyes lit up. "I know! What about her kiss?" Peter said, hopeful. "Would that cure me?"_**

 ** _Slightly looked at him with worried eyes. "Peter you can't just take a kiss either-"_**

 ** _"But I don't need to. She already gave it to me. She said it belongs to me, always." Peter looked down at his empty palm, closing it delicately as if catching some invisible object. Slightly considered this information. Certainly Wendy had given it to Peter, and there was no doubt it was something of great power. Slightly would argue it was that power precisely that had brought on this particular illness in the first place, but he wouldn't dare say as much._**

 ** _"I'm afraid something far greater is needed here. After all, if it had been sufficient and you truly did possess it this whole time, it would have cured you already." Slightly reasoned._**

 ** _Peter looked at him, pain written all over his face. "If I truly had it..?"_**

 ** _"Oh, that's not to say you don't, of course you do, I witnessed it myself, never doubted it for a second." Slightly corrected himself hastily._**

 ** _"Oh. Okay." Peter said, noticeably less tense. Slightly breathed a silent sigh of relief at his close call. "So, what do I do to get her heart?" He went on, returning to lay on the sofa. That was a more challenging question._**

 ** _"It will take time… But if you use that time to talk to her, get to know her again, I'm certain you'll find it will come to you." Slightly was no expert on matters of the heart, but he remembered the way Wendy had always looked at Peter, and so saw no harm in the rare educated guess._**

 ** _"How will I know if it's working?"_**

 ** _"I think…" Slightly placed a hand on his chest, "You feel it. In here."_**

 ** _"Ohh…" Peter didn't argue with that, pausing to think about it. "Slightly… Do you feel love?" The former Lost Boy was used to answering to Peter having followed him for countless years in the Neverland, but he hadn't been expecting a question like that. He took a deep breath, realising that if he was to be the one to explain these things he would of course need to lead by example at one point or another._**

 ** _"Yes… I- I think so."_**

 ** _"What is it like?"_**

 ** _"I saw her in the book shop…" He began, smiling. "She walked in on my first day." Slightly begun thinking aloud. "She has this_** **beautiful** ** _dark brown hair, apart from this one piece that sticks out." He picked up a lock of his own to demonstrate. "Whenever I see her she's trying to pat it down, but I like it." Peter watched his face as he went on. "She picked up a novel and pretended to read it but it was upside down. I think she just wanted to stay in the shop a while longer."_**

 ** _"How did you know… you know, that you…"_**

 ** _"I told you. I can feel it. When she looks at me, my heart jumps. When she leaves again, it's like it wants to leap out to go find her."_**

 ** _"Have you talked to her?"_**

 ** _"Oh heavens no…" Slightly reacted without thinking. "I mean, not yet. She hasn't bought any books… When she does, maybe I'll be able to." He concluded unsurely._**

 ** _"Hmm." Peter sighed._**

 ** _"Anyway," Slightly wanted to take the spotlight off himself before he said something stupid. "What say we get some rest? You can start in the morning."_**

 ** _Peter agreed indifferently, yawning and so Slightly put out the light._**

 _..._

Wendy rolled over onto her back and stretched. She sat up and glanced at her alarm clock on the bedside table. She blinked her eyes clear, picked it up, and read it again. It read 07.27am. She stared at it queerly. Thankfully she didn't have work on Fridays, but the boys still left for school so she made it a habit to wake up with them. She shook the clock lightly, and then lifted it to her ear. As she thought, there was no tick of the second hand, nor the gentle click of the cogs turning. She made a mental note to replace it. She walked down to the kitchen expecting to find it empty having missed the boys, but instead found a small crowd. John and Michael were sat opposite Slightly and Peter, all picking from an ample but untidy pile of toast that had been set on a plate in the middle of the table.

"-So I went straight for him!" Peter declared triumphantly. The boys gasped, John choking on toast crumbs, as the story continued, "I flew right over, dodging pistol fire," He mimed the guns dramatically with his two hands, "-and I took the hat straight off his stupid bald head!" The boys responded with 'ooh's and 'wow's of approval and Peter let out a hearty laugh. When he saw her in the doorway his demeanour changed drastically. He stood, suddenly and awkwardly like a soldier in the presence of his commanding officer, stopping to catch his chair that he'd inadvertently knocked in the process. His tone was equally formal. "Uhm- Good morning." Slightly quite obviously kicked his leg under the table, hard. Peter recoiled with a scornful 'Ouch!' before he seemed to get the message. He placed one hand on the table and shifted his weight onto one leg, a picture of nonchalance, "How are… things?"

Wendy stood speechless. It was there again: her dream Peter standing at the kitchen table plain as day; Interacting with other people.

"What are you doing here?" She was supposed to have woken up by now. Peter's face fell, his eyes showing nothing but hurt.

"Wendy… Wendy it's me, Peter…" His pleading eyes looked from her to John and Michael who sat observing the whole scene with curiosity. "I knew it! She really _did_ forget!" He said pointing a heated finger at John. John flinched with wide eyes, throwing his hands up in surrender as though it were a sword at his throat and not Peter's hand.

"Forget? Peter what are you talking about?"

He paused then, his attention entirely back on her but his arm still thoroughly accusing John.

"About me… About Neverland…"

"What a ridiculous thing to say." Wendy crossed her arms.

"I… Well I thought maybe…"

"Do you take me for someone who would simply forget the greatest adventure of their lifetime? You insult me sir." She said, feigning outrage.

"No- no I didn't mean it like that-" His arm dropped, to John's relief, as he stumbled over his chair once again to reach the doorway, "Wait, let me try again," but Wendy simply turned her back, arms still crossed.

"No, I shan't." She said, her mischievous smile unseen to Peter. There was a pause that followed, in which Wendy considered giving up and turning around, but then she heard him at her shoulder.

"You know… One girl is worth more than 20 boys…" He said softly.

She paused, trying to control the grin that was threatening to spread over her face.

"You really think so?" She turned to find him right there, her head swimming with nostalgia. For a moment they were back in the nursery. A 12 year old Wendy making acquaintance with the extraordinary boy that had just flown in through her bedroom window.

"You remember…" Peter looked genuinely relieved.

Wendy smiled, feeling closer to him suddenly. "Always."

Peter smiled back, but then his gaze fell suddenly. His hand moved up to his chest as if to check it was still there. When he looked back up and his eyes met Wendy's, she saw something new there: He looked surprised. But more than that, there was a twinkle of something that hadn't been there just a second ago. He gave a surprised half laugh, his smile lingering.

At that moment the doorbell rang, pulling them back to reality.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

Wendy took a look through the peep hole and opened the door to her Aunt Millicent. Peter had been ushered into the living room. John and Michael remained hidden in the kitchen, so as not to be discovered skipping school. Slightly stepped forward at once. "Mother,"

"Aunt Millicent," Wendy added politely, "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you Wendy. I was on my way out to town and came to drop off a few things before I left. Solomon dear, the book seller left a letter for you." She said with a sweet smile.

He stepped forward and took it, opening it to scan the contents as Millicent continued.

"Now," She began. Wendy didn't like that 'now'. It was the 'now' Aunt Millicent used when she was about to issue unreasonable instructions. "Wendy, your parents had to leave, trusting you to be the adult in charge, and I quite understand. You've become very responsible. However," Wendy knew there had to be a catch. "Your mother and father entrusted me with certain things too, and I of course couldn't refuse them. You are a woman grown now, and though you insist you will not marry we cannot have you lowering the expectation of the household by failing to make an effort. And so, I am pleased to say I have obtained two tickets to the upcoming Suitors Ball, hosted by the head of the bank."

Wendy blanched. "But Aunt Millicent, a Suitor's Ball is-"

"Mother," Slightly cut in, "What is this?"

"That, my dear, is your employer graciously giving you the week off to prepare for the event. You will be accompanying Wendy."

Slightly's face went blank. "You… want me to be _matched_?"

Her Aunt simply ignored protests "I trust you understand how difficult it was for me to procure these." She reminded Wendy. "Your Father is undoubtedly associated with the bank but not in any significant role. You should be extremely pleased that you will be attending. So many dapper young men to dance with, I have no doubt one will take your fancy."

"But-"

"You must think of the family, darling, the neighbours are beginning to wonder if there's something plaguing you… All the young women your age are following proper procedure. You will attend the ball and you will be matched with a suitable young man, who may very well wish to ask for your hand…" She paused as if to let the idea sink in, but as soon as Wendy opened her mouth to protest a third time, she continued pointedly. "You don't want them to think there's something _wrong_ with you, do you?" She raised her eyebrows at Wendy dangerously.

And then a perfect excuse popped into her head: "But I don't have a-"

"I have arranged for your dress to be fitted on Sunday." It was instantly thwarted. "You may have the day off for both the fitting and the ball." Her Aunt would not budge, it seemed. "You simply cannot remain single. I will not-" But before her Aunt could tell her what she would or would not be doing, something startled her. Wendy heard Slightly's urgent whisper of 'Peter, no!'

Her Aunt was looking past her into the corridor. "Wendy…" She had been rendered seemingly speechless. Wendy was beginning to see a pattern emerging as she once again turned slowly to see Peter standing in the corridor, his expression unyielding. All the colour drained from Wendy's face. Here her aunt was preaching of how inappropriate and shameful it was to not actively seek a proper husband, and there _she_ was being discovered with an unknown man in the house she had charge of.

Her Aunt looked over Wendy, standing there in her night dress, and then Peter in nothing but his ragged stained shorts and t shirt. She looked as though she might pass out.

"This… This is why you can't-?" Her Aunt gasped clapping a hand over her mouth. Wendy could have sworn she heard it followed by a muffled 'oh the shame'.

"No! No Aunty it's not what it looks like-!"

"That's right!" Slightly declared to his mother. Wendy stared at him in shock, the betrayal written all over her face. He continued regardless. "This is why Wendy cannot be matched. She already has a suitor!"

There was a pause as both Wendy and Aunt Millicent tried to figure out what Slightly was saying.

"A… Suitor?" Wendy breathed.

"He may not look it but he is the wealthy son of a…" He faltered slightly, "An Aristocrat!" Aunt Millicent raised her eyebrows in surprise, eyes on Peter once again. Wendy raised her hands to Slightly, desperately urging him to stop before he dug a hole neither of them could make it out of, but he refused to, "He was sent over to the house by…" Slightly looked at her pointedly needing her to fill in the necessary blanks.

"Mrs Davis!" Wendy stammered out the first name that popped into her head. "You see, she had seen how lonesome I was each day at the Green Grocers, in need of a husband." Aunt Millicent nodded at that, impressed at Wendy's new outlook.

"I see…" She said hopefully. "And all of this is…?" She gestured at Peter, namely his inadequate attire.

Peter took a breath, his face taking on a similar expression to the one he had been wearing as he told his fantastical story earlier on. That was all Wendy needed: their lie being blown right open by Peter telling her all about his thoroughly aristocratic life, fighting Pirates. She jumped over, grabbing his arm and tugging it hard interrupting his train of thought. It gave Slightly just enough time to think.

"Peter was on his way, but came across a young child in peril, stuck in a tree of all places," Slightly laughed awkwardly. "You can imagine, he felt compelled to save the poor thing, and needed to come over straight away to fix his appearance."

"… Of course, yes…" Millicent looked lost, but had finished her objections. Nevertheless, she eyed Peter suspiciously. "I must admit, I can't say I've heard news of you, Master…?" The question was directed straight at Peter. Wendy and Slightly physically winced, realising that this might be it for them. Peter would be the one to decide now whether Aunt Millicent would believe their tale or not.

There was a tense pause.

Peter took a careful step forward, and placed a hand behind his back, folding the other across his stomach as he bowed. "Peter. Pan." He said, articulately. "Delighted to make your acquaintance." He stated with perfect fluency, his tone smooth as honey. Aunt Millicent blinked, hearing his mysterious voice for the first time.

"Oh," She squeaked patting down her own dress and covering her growing smile modestly. "'Peter'." She said, trying his name out. Certainly, it seemed suitable for the role he was taking on. "I say, I didn't realise humble Mrs Davis had such… distinguished international connections. Yes, yes do forgive me I wasn't made aware of your…" She waved a hand at Wendy, "Arrangement."

"No, I insist, it's entirely my fault." Peter's charade continued, leaving Slightly and Wendy to look at each other in complete bewilderment. Clearly Slightly hadn't known what he was capable of either. "I requested that I meet Wendy in private, before announcing my arrival."

"Oh, yes I understand completely…" She paused. "I hope you will excuse my insistence, but you see these tickets were granted by someone I would like awfully not to offend…" A thought seemed to occur to her, "-Perhaps you could accompany Wendy when the occasion comes..?" She left the sentence hanging, her face anxious.

Peter smiled. Wendy could have sworn she spied a speck of genuine delight behind the act. "I would be honoured." And then his attention was on her. She had let go of him by this point, but she remained within arm's length, allowing Peter to place a hand on her shoulder affectionately. Wendy had always known Peter was good with impressions, ever since she had been there to witness his game of 20 questions with Hook, but this was different somehow. She could still clearly see Peter, his voice, _his_ amusement, behind this whole façade.

"Excellent!" Aunt Millicent clapped her hands together signifying her triumph on the matter. "If you should need anything, do not hesitate." She said hopefully. "I trust you'll take good care of Wendy."

And with that, she handed over a small envelope. She waved her farewells, blowing a motherly kiss to Slightly and stopped to wiggle her eyebrows at Wendy. Well, at least she'd finally found a suitor Aunt Millicent approved of, even if he was almost entirely fiction. 'One down, two to go…' Wendy thought cynically.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

Wendy shut the door without comment, and turned to stare at the ever mysterious youth in front of her. Slightly came to join her with his back to the door, as if taking his place on some committee examining Peter. John and Michael appeared in the kitchen doorway, equally curious as to what they'd just witnessed.

"What." Peter said in an attempt to look modest, but it didn't sound like a question. As if they needed any more proof, he crossed his arms triumphantly and raised a mischievous eyebrow at them.

"What-?" Wendy Began.

"How-?" Slightly added.

Peter shrugged. "I told you I didn't want to become a man. I never said I didn't know how. I heard enough about what I was supposed to be."

Wendy had forgotten that Peter hadn't always been in Neverland… He had been in a home once, with parents that had no doubt talked of the same things Wendy's did. Wendy realised then that he had used the word in past tense… ' _I didn't want to become a man'_. Perhaps she was overthinking things. There were more pressing issues at hand.

"She is never going to believe that. What about the people she goes off and tells about this?"

"It's not so bad-" Slightly tried to say, but Wendy had to cut in.

"You realise my reputation is now completely dependent on this lie?" She said at him, completely exasperated. "If she realises that this was all made up I'll have to tell her where Peter really came from and go back to being the child who couldn't tell real life from fantasy. They'll put me away. Or worse: I'll have to let her assume I devised it all in order to cover up something far more shameful…" Wendy couldn't even think about that possibility.

"Ah… yes. I suppose when you put it that way…" Slightly pondered. "But, what if you think about it differently?"

"How differently?" Wendy was suspicious.

"Do you want to be matched with a husband?"

"No! Of course not."

"And would you mind terribly if Peter stayed close by, to stop that from happening? After all, he knows now how you feel about it."

"I… I suppose not."

Slightly spoke to Peter then. "Peter, what do you say?"

He stood there for a minute looking at Wendy, his eyebrows knitted together as he thought.

"Do you want me to? … To stay?" He said carefully. Wendy got the feeling that the question held more significance than he was letting on. But no matter how many different ways she took it, there could only be one answer.

"Yes." The corner of Peter's mouth lifted, and for a moment Wendy couldn't bring herself to look away. Then Slightly clapped his hands startling her out of her trance.

"Then it's settled!" Slightly determined ceremoniously. "From here on, Peter will be playing the part of your prestigious love-struck suitor."

Wendy tried not to get completely distracted by the thought of a 'love-struck' Peter, "But the ball isn't until…" She took her slip of paper. "Monday?" Wendy said with sudden surprise. Of course Aunt Millicent would give her the smallest possible window of opportunity to back out. She sighed in defeat, getting back to her point. "...That would mean that Peter would need to be seen by people… outside." She wasn't sure what she was suggesting, but she felt uneasy in some way that she might have to share her delusion with the outside world. What if he didn't come back?

"You're right… He can't very well go out looking like that…" Slightly stroked his chin in thought. "I'll see what I can do..."

 **...**

 ** _Slightly peeped through the front door of his mother's house. He knew that when she went out to town she was usually out all day, but he wanted to be sure._**

 ** _"Mother?" he called then waited a moment. When no reply came he walked through and ushered Peter in._**

 ** _"Wow…" Peter walked in with all his belongings: his ragged clothes and the sash he carried, complete with dagger. Slightly supposed with the life Peter usually lead it was understandable that he would want to keep it close, unnecessary as it would have to say something about that sooner or later.  
_**

 ** _"This way." Slightly lead Peter up the stairs and into his room, and opened the large wooden doors of the wardrobe. Inside there were various folded items: shirts, suit jackets, trousers… "What about some plain trousers," He handed some over to Peter, "Aaand… a shirt."  
Peter took the neat unmarked clothes, but regarded them with suspicion. "This is what you wear?"_**

 ** _"Not every day, but remember Peter you're the son of a wealthy made up family now." Slightly reminded him playfully. "This is the very least you can have. And only because you are trying to keep a 'low profile', of course." Peter smiled thinly veiling his contempt for the entire situation._**

 ** _"Do I have to?"_**

 ** _"Peter, you remember our conversation about Wendy's heart?" Peter raised an eyebrow at him obviously not seeing the connection. "This is the perfect way to pursue it." He seemed to gain some interest then, so Slightly continued enthusiastically. "There is nothing more captivating than a proper gentleman. And now we have an excuse to make you one." Slightly dove back into the wardrobe._**

 ** _"Slightly… I don't think this will work." He heard Peter say behind him._**

 ** _"Of course it will Peter, your act is perfect!"_**

 ** _"That's not the problem…" Peter said, obviously holding back a laugh._**

 ** _Slightly turned to see Peter holding the clothes up against him. He could see the trouble now. Being so used to seeing Peter in his mind's eye as the_** **boy** ** _he remembered, Slightly hadn't taken into consideration the height difference between them. Peter was right, there was noticeable distance between where the shirt ended and Peter's legs began, not to mention the trousers which would potentially leave his ankles completely bare._**

 ** _"Ah…"_**

 ** _"Where do you get these things from?" Peter said with genuine curiosity.  
_**

 ** _"There are plenty of sellers nearby that would fix you up, I'm sure… It's just that we have no money to pay them."_**

 ** _"You mean, you need to trade?" Peter took the sash from Slightly's bed and removed something large that had been attached to the underside. It was a cloth bag bound with old vine, and it clinked softly as he picked it up._**

 ** _"Tink said I would probably need something to trade when I got here, so I brought this." He said carelessly upending the bag. Slightly saw jewels, beads and pearls, he saw gold coins falling out in such quantity that he lost count. He'd forgotten what real treasure looked like. Back when he lived in Neverland it hadn't ever seemed to have much appeal to him. After all, what was it good for other than stealing and being stolen? It was more a token than anything, of who had been the most cunning or daring. Here was a different story. Slightly had seen these kinds of jewels in the jewellers, only ever displayed one at a time, in the kinds of shops Slightly was forbidden from entering lest he touch something and cost his mother a fortune. That didn't seem like it would be a problem for Peter though. From Slightly's estimate Peter could afford to buy the shop if it took his fancy. Peter looked at it disappointedly. "Do you think anyone will want to trade for these?"_**

 ** _"Well, at least you won't have to_** **pretend** ** _you're rich…" Slightly said letting out a long breath._**

 ** _"I only had room for two bags." Peter said dejectedly, reaching over to the bed once again. "The Fairies said I would be too heavy otherwise."_**

 ** _Slightly Blinked at him. "Only two?"_**

 ** _Peter lifted an almost identical sack causing it to clink in the same way the first had. He pointed at it innocently. "Yeah, do you think it'll be okay?"_**

 ** _"Oh you'll be fine, leave it to me. We can look tomorrow while Wendy is out working. For now, you can stay here, and we'll head out early in the morning. We don't want to risk anyone seeing you just yet…" He trailed off. That was a thought. Perhaps there was an opportunity here. "Peter, since this will be your first appearance, people will want to know about you: where you come from, why... Once we have you properly dressed and visible, you will be spotted on every street."_**

 ** _"So, I have to keep lying to people?" Peter sounded fed up, as if he'd been served his daily chores mid-play. "I don't want to talk to all those people. What if I forget something?"_**

 ** _"_** ** _You might not have to…" Slightly rubbed his chin in thought, looking at the bags of gold._**

 **...**

 **((A/N: Thoughts? Whatever springs to mind. Go ahead lay it on me.  
Author Out.))**


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

Saturday morning was only the second morning that Wendy had woken up to her new reality, and so when she heard her 06:30 alarm, despite distinctly remembering that it had been broken the previous day, it was natural that she would start to question herself. She crept carefully out of her room, hoping she would see someone. But as was the norm on her weekend shifts, she was the only one awake. She peeped her head into the living room curiously, only to find a pile of empty bedsheets discarded on the sofa.

She shook her head. Surely the bedsheets would not be there if the entire thing had been a dream… But another part of her wondered: if it had been real where was he now? No, even she couldn't imagine something so ridiculous. She fought with herself silently for a minute, before she remembered she did have somewhere to be and got on with her day.

She arrived at the door of the green grocers to find Mrs Davis setting up early. Saturday was their busiest day of the week and Wendy didn't know if she had the will to go through with it. Every week she returned to the house drained, and that was in the days before her new habit of doubting her sanity. The only way she could hope to endure today was to push it all to the very back of her mind. She would confront and accept whatever reality greeted her once she had finished her shift, no matter how ridiculous or depressing it turned out to be.

She spied the first customer lurking by the carrots a full 20 minutes before opening time, and so took a deep breath and put on her most delightful smile.

 **...**

 ** _"What do you think?"_**

 ** _Slightly wasn't sure what he thought. Or what he was allowed to think, or say. He had never been in such a lavish shop before. He hadn't even known it had a back room, but there they stood admiring Peter's sixth new outfit. Recommended by the tailor of course. At Slightly's silence, Peter turned to said tailor. The man, Andrew as he introduced himself to 'Master Pan', seemed to have taken on a secondary role as a stylist in light of receiving the custom of such a distinguished guest. Slightly wondered what Andrew would say if he told him he was serving a runaway orphan who spent most days in flight fashioning a scant outfit of leaves, chasing grown men with swords… Perhaps it would have similar results._**

 ** _"Stunning. Absolutely stunning. I couldn't have imagined you'd have suited it so well, Master Pan." Andrew left to find more clothes. Peter grabbed a top hat from a previous change and perched it on his head at a jaunty angle looking at Slightly in the mirror._**

 ** _"I didn't realise this would be so much fun."_**

 ** _Slightly watched Peter amuse himself testing out various top hat-cane combinations. He remembered now why Peter loved the way things were. Here was a boy who could jump into the real world at a whim, snatch up a handful of high quality props and play a Lord for the day. Slightly expected a pang of jealousy, but instead he felt like an honoured guest. All those people on the street outside: the bankers and the family men, even Andrew here would never know a joy such as the one he had knowing Peter as a friend. That's what Peter did to people. He wasn't the snobbish young master who presented to you his luxuries and told you not to touch; he was the impish schoolboy who just stumbled across fun, and convinced you to join him._**

 ** _"I think we have enough now to pass you off as who you're supposed to be." Slightly assured him. "Now you get to try them out."_**

 ** _Andrew walked back in with an arm full of cloth, but Peter interrupted him in a thoroughly exalted tone. "Thank you, Andrew. That will be all."_**

 ** _"Ah, of course Master Pan." Andrew gathered up the approved clothes and accessories and walked out to the front of the shop. "I'll make the arrangements."_**

 ** _They walked through to find Andrew folding the last of the garments into papers bags._**

 ** _"I should like to leave in this." Peter stated confidently._**

 ** _"Of course." Andrew replied calmly, smoothing out the last package. "That will be forty six pounds, 4 shillings and a half penny."_**

 ** _Slightly's breath all but left him at hearing the total, but he passed it off as a cough so as not to be outed as the lost-boy-turned-working-class imposter he was._**

 ** _"Excellent." announced Peter. He took one of his pouches in hand and emptied roughly half onto the table. At first Andrew was understandably surprised, but then as he looked he realised that the gold coins Peter was offering where almost twice the size of the regular sovereign pounds he had been expecting. His eyes grew wide as he looked at Peter again with fresh approval._**

 ** _"One more thing, Andrew." Peter added, turning away from the shop keep to give Slightly a devilish grin._**

 ** _"Y-Yes, Master Pan?" This was it, what they had been practising._**

 ** _Peter put on his best nonchalant expression as he spoke, seemingly ignoring the man as he approached and smoothly placed two more heavy golden coins in his hand. "If you should receive questions about my being here, or what my purpose is…?" Peter left the sentence hanging. Slightly began to doubt if the man was going to take the bait._**

 ** _"What would you have me tell them, Sir?" Andrew asked, following his lead._**

 ** _"I would have you tell any interested parties that I am…" Peter obviously wanted to try out the title himself, "Master Pan, from an extremely prestigious and influential family, who has travelled the seas, alone, to capture the heart of the fair maid Wendy Darling."_**

 ** _There was a spark of recognition at the name. "Yes, of course, Master Pan."_**

 ** _Slightly nudged Peter "Oh yes, and if there should come a question about my arrangements with…" Peter had obviously forgotten her name. Slightly mouthed the word 'Davis' to him. "Mrs Davis, let them know that she has been sworn to secrecy and therefore cannot hope to divulge information about me."_**

 ** _"And if they should ask if Master will be attending the suitor's Ball this coming Monday..?" Andrew asked tentatively. He obviously knew the kind of people who would be asking. Peter looked at Slightly. Slightly raised an eyebrow._**

 ** _"Tell them… I have not yet decided." Slightly gave Peter another queer look. Not yet decided? Peter just shrugged, obviously not seeing his answer as being a problem._**

 ** _"Of course. I hope you will not hesitate to visit my humble workshop again?"_**

 ** _"I shall see to it that you are my personal tailor." Peter announced proudly._**

 ** _"T'is much appreciated, Sir."_**

 ** _..._**

Wendy looked up from the coins she had been counting into the till to see the number of people outside had doubled… She had never known a crowd so large at this time of day, let alone one made up of so many women. It was only 10 minutes until shop closing, but that wasn't the strangest part: There was no queue, and some women weren't entering the shop at all. She supposed that was fortunate. She couldn't hope to serve so many in such a short time.

She noticed young girls too, standing in groups. A few were looking straight at her through the window, which intimidated her slightly. She tried not to stare back, but soon one made the journey inside to the register after an apparently heated discussion with her friends. A petite brunette girl of an age with Wendy walked straight up to her.

"Is he here?" She whispered.

Usually Wendy wouldn't talk directly to her customers whilst on shift, but nobody was buying anything and she hoped to get some answers from this woman. "Is who here?"

"Him… The one they're saying is after the heart of the young woman who works in this green grocers."

Wendy tensed. That was all she needed, more complications. "I'm sure I don't know who you mean…"

"Master Pan!" The girl whispered back enthusiastically. "They say he might be attending the suitor's ball this Monday." A few other girls had come to listen in on the conversation. "They say he's travelled leagues to get here. Una says she saw him leaving with goods purchased from Andrew Glover the tailor." She continued, as if she expected Wendy to know who those people were.

"I heard he was invited to supper at his highness' palace-" Another girl cut in.

"Pan…?" They couldn't possibly mean- "Peter?"

"See!" The first girl said to the others, "She _does_ know him. By _name!"_

"No," another said, "She's just guessing."

Wendy opened her mouth to protest but she was interrupted by a wave of excited noises from outside…

 **...**

 **((A/N: ...  
Do you wanna leave a re-view..?  
Come on give it a try  
I never see them anymore  
Just post one more  
You don't need to be shy**

 **I'm used to getting feedback**  
 **but now there's none**  
 **I wish you could tell me whyyy**

 ***puppy dog eyes***  
 **Many years of joy and happiness to Yoshi77. Author Out.))**


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

Wendy was watching the clock on the wall, thankful that the girls seemed to have been distracted. She wondered how on earth she was to get home with this many people gathered apparently to hear if she had Peter hidden in the back room.

As the clock ticked away marking the end of her shift, something strange happened. Comments of 'He's here' and 'I told you' began making their way indoors… And the second hand on the clock stopped dead.

There was a man outside, dressed in brand new jet black suit trousers. His shoes glinted in the pale sunlight. The same light made what little there was to be seen of his crisp white shirt almost blindingly bright. Thankfully it was covered by his suit jacket and the flawlessly tousled ebony silk cravat he fashioned. Wendy's mouth fell open. She only managed to correct herself, snapping it back shut, when Peter had already made his way through the crowd and opened the shop door to spy her there at the register. Suddenly Wendy felt completely underdressed for the situation. Ordinarily one would expect the opposite: for the man in the expensive suit walking into a common green grocer's to be the one feeling out of place, but Peter was no ordinary man. In spite of outgrowing his 'extraordinary boy' title, the effect he still had on people was tangible.

"Miss Darling, I assume." Wendy noticed then for the first time the way he softly pronounced the 'r' in her family name. His voice was a vexing mixture of different enough to be noticed, and not strong enough to be placed. Wendy was already well used to hearing it, but for the women in the shop it was a first, earning him some wondrous looks. She was a little surprised at how well he pulled off this persona.

Her breath caught in her throat as he took her hand tenderly. "Yes-?" She felt the blood rush to her face as she realised she couldn't finish her sentence. Her mind was far too busy desperately trying not to enjoy her hand in Peter's as much she did, she knew after all that this was all an act.

"I was wondering if you would allow me to escort you to the suitor's ball."

It was given that when you received a written invite you had been chosen to attend in order to be matched, but it wasn't uncommon for people to sway the guest list in their favour by inviting a young man or woman of their choice. Wendy saw mixed reactions from the group of young women who had stepped aside to watch their exchange. Half seemed to be overjoyed at the prospect of having such an exciting young man attending, while the others looked disappointed realising that this particular exciting man may already be matched before the ball even began.

She felt slightly guilty at that, but it was necessary. She couldn't refuse or it would undermine the whole purpose of this silly game.

"I would be delighted, sir." She replied, hoping they were fooled by her false innocence.

"Please, call me Peter." He told her. "Perhaps I could walk you home?"

Wendy looked over at Mrs Davis, her mouth open to ask, but the woman just nodded knowingly, ushering Wendy away from her post. Peter took that as his cue and turned toward the door, holding out an elbow for her. Wendy gathered her belongings and picked up her bag from behind the till. She took Peter's arm and they left, amid scrutiny from half of Bloomsbury it seemed. Wendy noted that this was no doubt the most conspicuous exit she had ever made. The thought made her want to laugh, and put her in a much better mood. All the pieces were in place now, whether she liked it or not, so why shouldn't she enjoy her little slice of make-believe while she still could. She placed her other hand on Peter's arm purposefully as they cleared the last of the crowd, making sure to close the space between them by an inch or so as they walked toward home.

 **...**

 **Peter couldn't remember the last time he had had so much fun. At first he was just playing make-believe on a larger scale, but since noticing how people reacted to his company he had come to find a challenge in it. This wasn't just a game any more, it was a competition. He would play dare with himself, singling out targets as he met them and crossing lines to see how much they would believe. All this had been surprisingly effective, and amusing, until he saw Wendy. She was the one who made everything real. He had walked into the shop as young Master Pan, and left as Peter in dress up. He remembered wanting to run from her for being able to do that to him, but somehow now it didn't seem so scary.**

 **He felt her move closer as they left, and looked down curiously. She was holding his arm affectionately, looking straight ahead as she walked, a faint smile on her lips. He wondered if this was a sign: could this mean he was closer to winning her heart? He had received the advice from Slightly, and he couldn't deny it was working, but beyond that he had no idea what they were supposed to do. Thankfully she spoke first, saving him from asking.**

 **"Thank you, for coming to meet me. I think that's the first time I've ever been** ** _escorted_** **home." She said the word with a significance that Peter didn't understand.**

 **"Is it not something that happens often?"**

 **"I suppose it is, but usually with people you are very close to or you hope to become close to. It makes you feel wanted. What I mean is, it's very kind of you." As Wendy spoke she had her eyes ahead, and so Peter followed suit. The roads seemed to be a lot less crowded than they had been as he made his way to the shop. Perhaps it was because of everyone gathering there. The sky was growing dark.**

 **"Do you think they believed it?" Peter wondered aloud.**

 **"Most definitely. I would even say the other girls were growing jealous."**

 **"Of what?" But Peter wouldn't find out of what… Instead of answering, Wendy had stopped dead. She seemed tense for some reason. He followed her gaze and saw a man not to far up the path, facing them.**

 **"Peter…" Wendy's voice was barely a whisper. "Perhaps we should go a different way…"**

 **Peter knew there were many things about Wendy that he didn't understand, but just then he knew that she needed some support. He placed a reassuring hand over hers. She took a small breath, and nodded gently as he made a move to cross to the other side of the street, but the man was already advancing. He seemed more impatient now. Peter didn't understand why this man was having such an effect on Wendy, but she must have seen something that Peter didn't, because before he knew it the man was too close already. He was wearing tattered colourless clothes; from beneath them he drew a rusted knife. Peter spied it at once and tried to react but Wendy's hand was ripped from him.**

 **Wendy stood, her eyes large and her breaths quick. Around her neck was the man's grubby arm, his other holding the knife just below her ribcage as a threat.**

 **"Gimme it." The low voice came. "All of it." He waved the knife at Peter and everything he had.**

 **Peter wasn't sure how it had all happened. He was** ** _Peter Pan_** **, the boy who bested all foes, the boy who flew. He had never needed anything other than his own two hands, a weapon, and his wit. But he hadn't been expecting someone so ordinary to confront them like this, and he had gotten too involved in his silly game of dress up to bring his knife. There was no warning, no ransom note… No bait, no time limit or conditions, just blind robbery. As he stood, coming to terms with the situation the knife jerked upward toward Wendy's stomach making her flinch. Peter's heart hammered against his chest, the sound drowning out his thoughts. No… This couldn't happen… Not to her… He needed to concentrate… Had to do** ** _something.._** **. He needed strength… Had to protect her… Protect Wendy…**


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

Wendy was finding it hard to take a breath. Her throat was being pressed awkwardly, but more than that the fear of what was about to happen to her was paralysing. A hundred images flashed through her mind: The blood, the pain, what would happen to her parents, her brothers… to Peter. She was trying her best to stay calm but she couldn't stop herself from shaking. Peter was watching her, his eyes unseeing, unbelieving. This was all new to him, he couldn't have known the danger that Wendy had seen. She'd heard of these men… The kind that emerged once the sun had set, before the street lamps were lit. Her mother and Aunt had told her about the dangers of walking along deserted streets at this time of night… But this street wasn't deserted… She saw people crossing ahead, making their ways safely home to their families. They could surely see her, but she realised then that nobody would intervene. Of course they wouldn't. What would they gain from getting involved? They didn't know her, and they may well get injured themselves, or worse. That was what they relied on, these people. They held no particular confidence, or strength. Even his knife was ill maintained, but that was all he needed. Once his intention was clear, there was no argument to be made.

"Peter," She began, flinching when the man turned to face her accusingly. "Peter, he just wants our belongings… It's okay…" The man seemed to agree with that, his attention turning back to Peter with a grunt. Peter didn't seem to hear her… His expression had changed. His eyes were boring into the pavement. His voice, she barely recognised, all hints of amusement and laughter gone: it came out as an ice cold threat.

"Let. Her. Go."

Suddenly it became eerily quiet. The incessant hustling and bustling of 'oblivious' house owners came to a halt. Wendy noticed that a handful of passers by on the street up ahead had also stopped in their tracks. Wendy didn't understand… It was as if someone had called out for help, but no such call had been made. And even then, only certain people seemed to be coming forward. Most were of an age with them, young men and women. The odd child seemed to have heard it too. They still didn't seem to acknowledge that there was anything amiss, eerily walking up to Peter without a word. She watched in wonder until there were easily 10 people standing across from her and her captor. Not a single one seemed to see the others. All eyes stared sinisterly at the man that had seized her. He hadn't been expecting an audience, Wendy could tell from the way he faltered in his grip, but regardless he held his nerve, knife still in place. That was until a voice came from behind:

"You do not want to fight me…" The unfamiliar female voice said with equal menace. At first Wendy couldn't put her finger on why the voice sounded so strange, and then she noticed that Peter's mouth was moving in time. They spoke together. The man swivelled awkwardly, Wendy still in tow, to see another crowd gathered behind him. He instinctively backed up against the wall, leaving the two groups to close in on him. Peter had been joined by four more, two children, a young man, and his dog. The animal was unnervingly silent, but for a low growl rumbling from its throat.

"Let her go, and I will leave you unwounded." Said the new man in sync with Peter.

"Put the knife, down." She heard from a small girl to their left, the contempt with which she said it certainly beyond her years.

The thief seemed as confused as Wendy was at this absurd but equally terrifying display. She turned away from him, looking to Peter. She had never seen him this intense. She had seen him fight with deadly weapons as though it were a game; seen his solemn face smile at her on the cusp of defeat and imminent death, but never like this. She supposed the reason his expression looked so out of place was that she still only saw him as a boy. But then she recalled, even as a boy he was the one who had single-handedly fought and defeated a full grown man in battle, only to slice of his hand with a sword blade and mercilessly feed it to a wild animal. She'd always known that was his doing, but had never really stopped to think what it meant: Peter could be ruthless too.

If Wendy had come to that realisation a moment later, she may not have had time to stop him.

It all happened to fast: The armed man wavered, moving the knife away, and Peter lunged forward snatching it up. She felt the arm around her loosen as he realised he had nowhere to go and abandoned his efforts- but Peter was too quick, not ready to be fooled a second time. Wendy slipped free and staggered, trying to get out into the street and out of reach, but she met a wall of witless pedestrians. When she turned back to see Peter, he had the man pinned against brick, the dagger an inch from his neck. Wendy had no doubt now that Peter was capable, and so she didn't hesitate:

"Peter!" She screamed. She waited until he was fully stood, looking back at her. "Peter," She began again at a more reasonable volume. "Leave him. It's not worth it."

"But he-"

"I know. I think we should go…" She made a point of looking worriedly at the dreamy eyed people that surrounded them. Peter seemed to realise the number of them then and took her advice, gathering up the cane and anything else that lay discarded. They hurried away, leaving before anyone could come to their senses and recognise the two fleeing.

They arrived at the front door in much the same way that they had left the green grocers: Peter escorting the young lady home and Wendy holding his arm close. But everything was different this time. This was no act: Wendy was holding on in order to not let the shaking in her legs get the better of her. They hadn't really spoken since their escape.

"I…" He started, "guess I should pretend to say goodnight here…"

That was true… they hadn't discussed what they were supposed to do at this point. According to their story the two had only just met, so it would be queer to invite him in so soon. But in reality Peter had nowhere else to stay.

Thankfully the street was just about empty.

"I think it's okay, you can come in…"

"No, it's alright. I can take a walk and come ba-"

"Don't go." She said without thinking. She realised that she couldn't bare the thought of him leaving. She could hear the vulnerability in her own voice, but it couldn't be helped. "…Please".

Peter didn't say anything. He just gave a small nod and took her hand reassuringly, walking her into the house. Wendy shut the door, all the while keeping hold of Peter. She noticed there was a fragile silence between them after her little outburst… He must have felt it too because he was watching the floor awkwardly. She could still feel the trembling on the inside, regardless of how she looked. She didn't want to think about what had just happened, she wanted to keep her mind clear of it, not to relive it.

"Peter…" The tension was so thick that she could have sworn Peter flinched at the sound of her voice.

"Yeah?" He said with a concerned smile. She felt a pang of guilt. She was okay, as long as he didn't have to go, not yet.

"Can I… stay in the living room for now?" She asked hesitantly. "I just, don't want to go up alone… is all…" For a moment he didn't respond, so she squeezed his hand gently.

"Yeah. I don't mind." With the promise that she could stay with him a while she had the strength to let go of his hand, so she opened the living room door and took the discarded blankets. There were enough for two, and so she laid them out on the floor in two sets, a noticeable gap between them. She felt like some warmth would help her fragile nerves, so she sat amongst one pile and wrapped herself in them, leaning forward to reach the fire.

Peter seemed to gather that the other pile was for him and wrapped himself in it in much the same was as he watched her loading logs into the hearth.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

The fire slowly sputtered to life, giving off some welcome heat. Wendy took a deep breath to clear her head.

"Are you okay?" Peter said quietly. "I'm sorry about the way I reacted…" Wendy couldn't grasp how he could apologise for effectively saving her life.

"No, Peter, if you hadn't been there…" If he hadn't been there… She couldn't begin to think about it. Peter must have seen it in her face. He reached over to place his hand over hers on the carpet. She smiled, thankful that she had someone who was able to read her like that. Wasn't that what this whole idea of being matched was about? Finding someone who knew you. Someone who understood and could take care of you…

Then she realised: She and Peter hadn't shared a lot since he returned. It was such an odd thing, given everything she had planned to tell him over the years. She didn't know where to start.

"Peter… What happened? I thought you were going to come back… to visit, and hear stories…"

"Oh… I know. I wanted to…" He looked suddenly uncomfortable. "I couldn't get here… I got sick and it all got so complicated."

"Sick? How sick?" She automatically took his hand, a comforting gesture to return his previously. Seeing them together in the light of the fire she noticed the difference between them for the first time. His hands were now noticeably larger than her own, possessing a masculine charm. It was strangely soothing.

"Slightly says whatever it was it caused all of this." He said gesturing to himself. So he had noticed.

"I wanted to ask about it, but I wasn't sure if you knew." She said, a little embarrassed.

"After we went to find clothes I figured it out."

"Oh, of course. So, it's all because you got ill?" Wendy asked, a little lost still.

"It's a long story… a lot changed, and suddenly I couldn't-" Peter cut himself off going quiet.

"You couldn't..?"

He looked so serious then that Wendy almost told him that she didn't want to know anymore, but he continued:

"I can't fly…" He was still as a rock, his hand unmoving.

"But… Peter," Wendy's eyes grew wide. "Does that mean… Your happy thoughts-?" The idea hit Wendy in the chest. All these years she had been thinking of herself and how she would suffer for having lost this joyful impish boy… When this whole time Peter had been grounded.

"What? No, I was still _happy_. I just… had trouble concentrating," He seemed to rethink, mid sentence, "-because of the illness." He clarified. "I fell, and when I woke up I couldn't fly…"

He looked at her expectantly, but Wendy wasn't sure what he was waiting for.

"As long as you're happy, I guess that's okay." She offered with a reassuring smile.

"…Really? You're not… disappointed?"

"In what…" Then Wendy realised what he meant. "In you? Peter no! All I want to know is that you" She lifted up his hand to demonstrate, "are happy… I couldn't live with myself if I thought you had been alone and hurt this whole time."

Peter didn't comment. Instead he looked down at their hands, something seemingly weighing on his mind.

 **Peter sat thinking about the way their hands looked against each other. He couldn't really deny the differences... But somehow they seemed to match. He was still a little in shock that he had been able to say it. Of all the people in the world he had been most scared about how** ** _she_** **would react, but she wasn't sad... or disappointed. She didn't care, as long as he was... happy...**

 **The thought struck a note with something Slightly had said during their talk.** ** _'As long as he is happy_** **.' ... Peter played the conversation out in his head, this time with Slightly posing the question to Wendy: '** ** _What if he had been here but was unhappy?' … 'Then I would make him happy...'_**

 **Did that mean…?**

 **No, of course not...**

 **But what if she was… Could she be-?**

 **Peter studied her face, as if such a thing could be seen there if he looked hard enough. Though he didn't see it, he found an answer of sorts when Wendy moved their hands together. At first he was confused, unsure how to take the gesture. He wondered if she was telling him something... Slightly had warned him about this: How he should always be vigilant for signs that girls made without saying a word. Apparently they were the most important kind. He thought about what she was telling him with this… It didn't make a lot of sense, having made sure to sit separately, only to reach out and get closer to him. Had she changed her mind? They could be more than just 'next to each other' after all? Perhaps being connected like that was something she wanted.**

 **Was this the sort of thing that made her happy..?**

 **Wendy smiled at him.**

Wendy was content just watching Peter for the time being. The heat of the fire had helped her anxiety, but she was soon realising that being alone with Peter, being able to talk with him was what put her mind more at ease. The longer he stayed the more convinced she became that he wasn't going to disappear. That in turn seemed to be calming her nerves about the attack: knowing that he would be there to protect her should something happen.

The thought of Peter protecting her like that seemed to distract her from the fear entirely. She found herself focused on the warmth of Peter's hand and felt a wave of goosebumps down her arms in spite of the fire's heat. She was just getting used to the feeling when his hand slipped away. She looked up wondering where he was going only to find him much closer. She looked away without thinking, her eyes staring at the fireplace as he moved to sit against her. She could feel his fingertips brush against back as he reached behind to gently take her shoulder. Before she knew it, she was wrapped in Peter's body, her head resting on his shoulder. She was unable to see his face and so felt suddenly clueless. She continued to face the fire resolutely, painfully aware of how close they were. She knew it wouldn't be a problem for them to stay this way and continue talking, Peter would surely be able to hear her, but if she were to turn to face him, as she so desperately wanted to, she sensed that the talking would come to an end, and she still had things she wanted to say.

"Peter," She said softly, "I didn't mean it…"

"Didn't mean what?" His voice was equally gentle from over her shoulder, as if telling her a secret. Wendy couldn't be sure if he was doing it on purpose to get a reaction from her. Then she corrected herself, such things didn't occur to Peter.

"I said things to you back in Neverland... Things I shouldn't have." He paused, seemingly thinking about it. She hoped he remembered, because she didn't want to have to specify. She was still a little ashamed of her childishness. She knew it had been her fault Hook was able to get the better of him that day. She never would have said it if she knew it would have such a drastic effect. "I didn't realise it was going to hurt you so much. I only said it because I…" She reassessed her courage mid-sentence. "I was upset."

Wendy said the last few words carefully, trying to judge whether Peter understood. They had been through a lot, and their conversation in fairy hollow had brought so much to light, but in the end she had never clearly told him how she felt. To that day she didn't know what he thought. She couldn't bring herself to say it directly out of fear that she would be cast aside once again. She couldn't stand to see him run from her, not after she had just gotten him back. So instead she used the word _upset_ , and waited for his reaction.

"It's okay… I know…" he said quietly.

Wendy felt her heart sink. So he did know… Wendy didn't respond, not sure what to say. So it _was_ a case of enjoying her fantasy. She scolded herself for expecting anything more. Their act would come to an end sooner or later, after all none of it was true.

With that thought, she gave in and let herself relax into Peter's arms, grateful to have had this chance. Before long she felt her eyelids growing heavy, and she drifted off in the light of the fire.

 **...**

 **((A/N: A standing ovation to idecodesx you lovely person you.  
Hope all of you out there are enjoying this, I genuinely do.  
Reviews are my way of telling if my hopes are coming true...  
Give the gift of a review this christmas  
Author Out.))**


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

 ** _In a tropical Neverland, Tinkerbell sat on the branch of a small tree overlooking the ocean enjoying the heat. She was at the height of relaxation: sunbathing with one leg swinging lazily in the light wind as she sipped an acorn cup of zesty tonic the other fairies had swiped from the Indian tribe leader's tent. With a pleasantly fuzzy head she didn't notice the fiendish mermaid that watched her from the shallows, a wicked look in her eye. That was until said mermaid surfaced a few moments later accompanied by two others._**

 ** _Tinkerbell's attention was caught by the familiar clicks of mermaid conversation. She knew it was rude to listen in of course, but that didn't stop her. She was glad she did when she heard mention of Peter. Her ears pricked up, and once the curiosity had set in it was hard to turn away. She jumped up, keeping herself hidden behind bunches of leaves as she crept closer._**

 ** _The sounds continued… and Tinkerbell's expression became anxious. Peter? Stay in that world? No that was nonsense… There was more clicking. She shook her head to herself. Yes, Peter had left to see her, but he was coming back. She leaned closer straining to hear. Her mouth fell open. Grow up? That was ridiculous… But her unease only swelled. The longer she listened the more sense the mermaids were making. If he had gone to find her, he wanted to be with her… and If he was with her in that world he would grow up, and if he grew up…_**

 ** _Tinkerbell fell from the branch entirely then, almost forgetting that she had wings with the shock of her revelation. If Peter still couldn't fly, and stayed there, he would grow up and forget all about Neverland. She had to stop him!_**

 ** _A flash of light soared up into the sky, as the mermaids watched on snickering to themselves._**

 ** _..._**

It was Sunday morning, and Wendy Darling awoke with a faint smile on her lips. She was vaguely aware that she had no early appointments, and no job to attend, so she rolled over to enjoy her lie in a little while longer. She stretched a long blissful stretch and tried to tuck a hand under her pillow. She found something in the way, so she pulled the blanket up over her shoulder again and lay a hand out in front of her instead.

Then she realised that something was off. Her hand was resting on something warm. The same warm thing that was under her pillow. She opened her eyes, her mind still in a peaceful daze. She held her breath as she realised she as looking at Peter's sleeping face. They were enveloped in blankets: half being used as their bed and the other half as covering. She could see Peter's chest rising and falling softly, his lips parted. He was still wearing the shirt from the previous day, but with the buttons constricting his neck and wrists undone so as to allow him to move more freely. His eyelashes were being highlighted by a patch of sunlight that was breaking through the curtains. Wendy knew that the proper course of action would be to get up at once, and risk waking him so as to apologise for being such a burden. But then Wendy didn't feel like being proper at that moment. She knew it may well have been the last and only time that she would get to experience this small pocket of happiness, and so she chose to pretend that she was still asleep. She stayed as she was, watching Peter, her smile returning.

At some point she drifted back off amid a host of half-dreamed dreams, most involving Peter. They were looking down at the rooftops of Bloomsbury flying hand in hand, when the real thing moved pulling her back to reality. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to excuse the way they had ended up.

"Oh, Peter, I'm so sorry," She said innocently. "I didn't realise I-" Her explanation was going well, up until Peter opened his eyes to look at her. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, and when he seemingly recognised her the honesty of his smile was almost heart stopping.

"Wendy…" He said drowsily.

"I… Uh" Wendy sat up, turning away slightly so as to hide from him. She could feel her heart jump at the sight of him, the blood rushing to her face, but suspected that she was overreacting. It was early after all, and she was still in the transition from dream to reality. Though given that her reality was so similar now it was hard to tell where one began and another started. In the end she knew she would have to find the line. "I'm sorry… It must have been a pain to have me lying on you like that."

"No," Peter propped himself up on his arms. "It's ok. You needed to relax after what happened yesterday… and I slept well." Wendy was relieved to hear it. Whether it was the warmth, the dreams or just how close they sat Wendy didn't know, but at that moment she felt closer to him than she ever had. She had to focus, to remind herself that she must hold back. It was a cruel twist: To have everything she ever wanted sat in front of her, but be unable to act, unable to take it because as soon as she did…

It seemed she was looking at the one joy from which she must be forever barred…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell.

Wendy opened the door to find Slightly standing on the step.

"Good morning."

"Oh, good morning, Slightly." She greeted him, silently thankful for the cool air outside clearing her head.

"I thought I'd come by and offer to take Peter off your hands." Wendy didn't understand for a moment. "The ball is tomorrow, you have arrangements for your dress that you need to attend don't you?"

"Oh! Of course, yes. I suppose Peter has an appointment?"

"Not necessarily, but I was hoping we could have a little chat before tomorrow. You know, practice his dance steps et cetera…"

"I… suppose yes that would be best." She sighed in defeat having to give up Peter yet again. She didn't expect Slightly to understand her disappointment at losing potentially the majority of another precious day.

"Don't worry I'll take good care of him, and return him in one piece by this evening." On cue Peter emerged from the living room. He almost looked as if in a fresh set of clothes ready to leave, that was, if you didn't look closely for the lines embedded in them.

"Let's be off then." Slightly said a little impatiently. He reached in and grabbed a clueless Peter's elbow and set off.

"Where are we going?" Peter's voice faded as they gradually got further from the house. Wendy sighed, watching them for far too long before closing the door dejectedly.

 **...**

 ** _"Where are we going?" Peter asked him, disgruntled. "I already have my suit, I don't need to be anywhere."_**

 ** _"That may be true, but we still have business to attend to."_**

 ** _"What business?"_**

 ** _Slightly checked that the street was clear and that they were out of Wendy's sight before stopping. "You have never attended a ball before, yes?"_**

 ** _"No?" Peter corrected himself, "I mean yes, no I haven't."_**

 ** _"Then we need to go over Ball etiquette: It's very important. I'll help you practice."_**

 ** _Peter sighed in defeat. "Okay…"_**

 ** _"You have to use this time wisely, to impress her. After tomorrow night you don't have your act to rely on anymore, there'll be no need to keep it up. Time is running out. After that you'll just be regular Peter again."_**

 ** _"Is regular Peter so bad..?"_**

 ** _"No, of course not bad, but-" Something occurred to Slightly about Peter's tone. "Why do you say that?"_**

 ** _"It's just… I don't know what if she likes regular Peter. That's all I ever am with her."_**

 ** _"Why… How have you been getting on?" Slightly was picking up on some unseen development and couldn't help but pry._**

 ** _"Well, she seemed kind of happy this morning after we slept together," Peter began. "And I don't think she liked me pretending to be someone else in front of other people… She acted different in the shop… I don't know, maybe it was everyone else making her uncomfortable…"_**

 ** _Slightly stared at Peter as he mulled it all over, not really hearing anything he was saying._**

 ** _"Peter." Slightly said with a dead-pan expression._**

 ** _"Yeah?"_**

 ** _"You slept together… With Wendy?"_**

 ** _"Yes."_**

 ** _"I see…"_**

 ** _Slightly was suddenly glad that he had come for Peter so early. They had a lot to cover before he could be trusted to mingle at a public event._**

 ** _..._**

 **((A/N: Wow-wy. I really should be getting ready to meet someone, but I am too impressed by the overnight flood of feedback. Special Love and Hugs are not gonna cut it for you LinksTetra. I'm making a special effort to polish off this chapter and the next especially for you, I hope you enjoy them, and I'll be updating again soon.  
Special Thanks and Lucky Pennies to Oholland6, and ****XxLost-In-The-EchoxX for their favouriting,  
and review.  
Author almost out...))**


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

Wendy had been waiting outside of the dress makers for almost an hour. She had been so early that she was there when the girl with the appointment before hers had arrived. She checked her watch again. After Peter had been taken from the house so early in the morning she had been left with almost nothing to do until her appointment rolled around. She didn't want to think about it too much, it made her nervous not knowing what she was to wear, especially given her realisation of how important this night was going to be for her. Yes it may not be real, and yes she may not actually come away from the ball with a match, meaning that she may have to be re-matched in the future to someone else… But whatever happened, nothing would be able to erase this night. She would always have the memory of this Ball to hold close to her heart.

Back in the house she had been at risk of driving herself to distraction. She had slept enough, and wasn't hungry, so to occupy her mind she cleaned. John and Michael had emerged for food throughout the day, but ignored her antics. If they had anything to say about Peter or where they had both been last night they kept it to themselves. Once she had finished cleaning she went for a walk, but she didn't have anywhere in particular she wanted to go, and so arrived back at the house too soon. Finally the time had become near enough for her to leave, telling herself that if she walked slowly and took a few detours she might arrive to a ready shop keep, but it wasn't to be.

She was twiddling her thumbs when the girl from before emerged, looking much the same as she had when she had arrived. Wendy wondered what exactly she was going in for. Somehow she had imagined that this appointment would amount to much more than that, but she supposed it made sense, after all the dress would stay here for the time being. She supposed the difference would become clear the next day at the event: just what she needed, another 24 hours of angst. She peeped inside to see the woman she presumed to be the dress maker standing at the till. That was an improvement on her last few checks, so she decided now was the time to enter. She walked in and cleared her throat, mentally preparing herself for whatever her Aunt had lined up for her.

 **…**

 ** _Tinkerbell burst into the world with a cloud of fairy dust: a spark of light that appeared in the night sky and immediately sped down toward the house with the large sliding window that she remembered. When she got there, she glided toward it and dipped behind the cover of the curtains. She peeped in through the glass hoping to find Peter, but he was nowhere to be seen… She darted around the house investigating other windows, but he wasn't inside. She sailed away from the house to hover above the road… Where could he be? She had no good ideas…_**

 ** _That was until she saw something in a nearby house window entirely by chance. The shape of a person jumping up onto a bed… She recognised that shadow._**

 **…**

 **The sky had grown dark. Slightly and Peter stood in the bedroom, top hats and cravats that had been tied a hundred times discarded on the floor.**

 **"Okay, so to review…" Slightly addressed Peter hopefully. "Which of these is NOT polite conversation?"**

 **Peter studied the writing on the chalk board intensely. Slightly had been throwing multiple choice questions at him all day, and though in the beginning it had seemed completely ridiculous, and had taken some time, he felt like now he was beginning to understand.**

 **"Swordplay." He said confidently. He was now fully aware that 'Catering', 'Family' and 'The weather' were acceptable, so it was a simple process of elimination after that.**

 **"Correct!" Slightly seemed relieved. "Okay, next: A young woman asks you where you come from. What do you do?"**

 **'Neverland' and 'second star to the right' had been banned in this conversation, so there had been a need to get creative: "I shall avoid the question by telling the young woman where I come from doesn't matter, upholding my reputation for mystery. Then I shall follow that with a line that is sure to distract her…" He paused for effect. "I am a changed man…" He finished dramatically, with his best '** ** _looking into the distance in thought'_** **face, his eyebrows pulled together pensively. He had perfected it in the mirror as part of the day's training on how to be** ** _charming_** **. Peter had rejected that plan initially, insisting he could be charming enough on his own, but it had turned out to be quite informative. As Slightly insisted: It was a very important skill at an event with the sole objective of finding potential husbands and wives... He mimed a pistol with one hand, shooting Slightly and blowing away the smoke. Slightly ducked, firing straight back as he countered.**

 **"Her two friends heard your exchange, they are interested and join her!" Peter jumped onto the bed to dodge.**

 **"I will start a new conversation with one of the two new girls, with a question that all three can answer, taking the attention off of me…" He took an imaginary hors d'oeuvre from an invisible tray, inspecting it as he spoke. "What do you ladies think of the food?"**

 **"Perfect!" Slightly seemed pleased. "Okay… Final question!" Peter watched him as he paced the room slowly, setting the scene: "You are dancing with another girl, as is expected of you at such an event. However! Out of the corner of your eye you spy Wendy, also mid dance." Peter watched him cross in front of the window… He could have sworn he saw a ball of light, but as he blinked his eyes clear it disappeared. He looked at the window closely, but was distracted by the butt of the question: "He partner suddenly pulls her close, how do you react?"**

 **Peter's raised a hand to answer but let it fall again when he realised he didn't have one… This wasn't a simple multiple choice questions he'd answered before. He had to think this one over. If she was dancing with someone else, and was enjoying herself then he had no right to do anything… If she wasn't she would say something, and even if not the dance would come to an end sooner or later.**

 **"I… would trust her to make a decision." Peter said carefully. "If she needed to leave, she could. If she wanted to stay, then she should stay." He finished. Slightly looked at him, confused.**

 **"I suppose that is proper of you… but"**

 **"But?"**

 **"Wouldn't you want to cut in? To intervene somehow?"**

 **"Of course I do… But, I want Wendy to be happy. If she finds someone…" Peter wasn't sure how to put it. "Suitable… Then I should let her choose a normal life…"**

 **"Wow…" Slightly sat down on crossed legs to signify the end of his manic pop quiz. "Peter, that's very… well, it's downright gallant of you, honestly."**

 **The word brought back the memory of their fight in the hideout, Wendy's voice echoing in his head. He looked down at his new hands. Did that mean he was now** ** _neither ungallant, nor deficient?_** **He wondered what Wendy would think of their conversation. He sighed and looked up at the window wondering how her appointment had gone. He squinted again, noticing a few specs of light settling on the windowsill. He walked over to the window curiously, but even as he scanned the skies and the street below, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, and so he dismissed it.**

 **…**

 ** _Tinkerbell landed awkwardly on the roof tiles in her frantic escape. She had been standing on the sill outside when Peter had almost spotted her. At first she had wanted him to but then she had heard more of the conversation than she had meant to. She wanted to hear more, and so had decided to stay out of sight…_**

 ** _She knew she had a bad track record for making rash decisions: After being banished she had done her utmost to learn from her mistakes. So when she saw an opportunity for her problem to resolve itself without her intervention she thought better of her plan to rush in. Wendy would go to the Ball and find a suitable partner, and Peter would decide to let her be, and return to Neverland, Tink was sure of it._**

 ** _But she would keep a look out, just in case._**

 ** _..._**

 **((A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the lovely LinksTetra.  
Stay tuned  
Author Out))**


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

Wendy's appointment had turned out to be slightly anti-climactic. She was expecting to at least see her dress, or perhaps an accessory, but there had been no suggestion that such an outfit even existed. The woman who took her for the appointment had been suspiciously quiet the entire time, taking measurements here and there, stopping to look at the colour of Wendy's eyes, or the length of her fingernails. She also demanded that Wendy demonstrate her habitual walk and posture, for the sake of flagging up any potential hazards, and at one point had her standing on tip toes whilst holding books in outstretched arms. The woman had ended the appointment by scribbling down and giving her a note that instructed her to arrive again tomorrow 3 hours before the ball started.

By the time she left, Wendy could make out the stars appearing in the sky, and she was more clueless than when she had walked in. She was also incredibly worn out. She wanted to go home, relax her muscles, and once again find something that would distract her from the ever more daunting prospect of attending the next day's event. She wasn't sure whether Peter had returned yet, so she checked the living room first, but it was empty. Assuming herself alone she climbed the stairs to her room. As she reached the top she saw someone by the open door. Peter was stood by the old cupboard on the landing. She remembered it well: Tinkerbell had burst the draw open on the night Wendy had sewn Peter's shadow back on. After they had disappeared it had understandably been overlooked, and so the broken draw and its contents had been neglected for years. It stood mainly unchanged since that day. Peter was running his fingers over the top of it, apparently captivated.

Watching him brought back the memory of what her mother had told them that night…

 _"There are many different kinds of bravery… Your father has never brandished a sword, nor fired a pistol, thank heavens…"_ Wendy could hear her mother's voice now. She hadn't wanted to listen then, too upset about her father's scolding words.

 _"He's made many sacrifices for his family, and put away many dreams…"_

 _"Where did he put them?"_

 _"He put them in a drawer. And sometimes, late at night, we take them out and admire them…"_

She remembered Peter's adamant denial that he should ever grow up and compared the image to the solemn Peter that stood before her… She could almost see it on his face: The way she had felt having to grow up and leave behind her memories of Peter and Neverland,

Had Peter put something away too..?

He looked up then and saw her, a little surprised.

"Oh, hey." He said in a clear effort to be cheerful. "Sorry, I just got back. I wondered where you were so I came up to see if you were in your room."

She watched the forlorn expression fade from Peter's face, and a thought occurred to her.

"Peter, would you wait here for just a minute?"

"Uhm… Okay."

Wendy grinned at him and rushed into her room closing the door firmly behind her. She looked over her room, her mind racing to remember where she would find something suitable, calling through to make sure he was still there:

"You mustn't come in, alright?"

"Okay. I won't." He said in a curious tone.

She pulled out boxes from under her bed and took out a white garment, but on holding it up against her remembered it was now too short… She went to the wardrobe, continuing her search. She pulled out a handful of pyjama trousers and night caps before finally finding something promising.

At once she rushed to cover the window, stripping to her underwear. She threw the item over her head and regarded herself in the mirror… Her eyebrows furrowed: something wasn't quite right.

"Are you still there?" She called to Peter, just to make sure.

"Yes. Can I come in?"

"No, no, not yet… just a little while longer…" She said throwing open the lace curtains and moving the latch. She forced the window up with both arms and leaned outside hastily. As she did she heard something strange: a half-imagined chime of tiny bells. She looked up to try and find the source of the sudden noise, but unexpectedly sneezed as something landed on her face. She had to rub her eyes clear, and as she did the light she thought she had seen above her faded. She squinted curiously, but there was nothing there, so she continued so as not to keep Peter waiting.

She reached out and took a handful of the creeping vines that had made their home nearby and tore them away, a fine mist of brick dust falling to the street below. Once back inside she shut the window again, and tore off a few extra leaves leaving them to drift to the floor. She took the resulting rope and tied it around her waist as a belt, looping the excess over her shoulder as a sash. She wiped the mud and dirt her hands had gathered from the plant onto her nightdress, and then looked at the mirror once more. It was perfect. She bunched up her sleeves and mussed her hair for good measure.

"Wendy?" Peter's voice came. "Can I come in yet?"

She stopped to kick some unneeded debris out of the way and under the bed before answering: "Yes, you may."

 **...**

 **Peter had no idea what was happening in Wendy's bedroom… Being discovered there by her room was surely 'improper' if Slightly's advice was anything to take seriously. But not only did Wendy not seem to care, she was now inviting him in. After a lengthy delay of course. He had heard movement, and objects being kicked and thrown, and the window opening. That was what confused him most: the window. What could she be doing?**

 **"Wendy? Can I come in yet?" He wanted to make sure she was still there and had not somehow escaped out into the night. There was another pause, and he heard more objects presumably being kicked, and then the noise stopped.**

 **"Yes, you may." He heard Wendy say through the door. When he opened it, he had to blink his eyes clear and remember where he was. The first thing he saw was Wendy… But it was** ** _his_** **Wendy, the Wendy he had returned to the nursery all that time ago. The moonlight was breaking in through the window and casting her in an eerie glow: her night dress and hair getting caught at a strange angle that almost made it look as though it was shimmering. His common sense caught up with him as he realised his Wendy had changed, she couldn't go back… He could see the differences now, but nonetheless he remained mesmerised. He walked a few steps toward her, stopping when she made a polite curtsy. He didn't need to think. He replayed the memory in his head, a wide smile breaking out onto his face. He folded an arm behind his back and another across his front as he bowed to her. Wendy came to him, and he held up a hand for her. She slid hers into it delicately.**

 **Peter's heart lifted as she rested the other on his shoulder, prompting him to take her waist. Peter smiled at her, feeling happier than he could ever remember being.**

 **...**

Wendy was happier than she could ever remember being.

She was looking into Peter's eyes, and found him looking into hers. They seemed to be caught in an instant, suddenly back in Neverland together. She felt her life's troubles lift from her, feeling physically lighter. She stepped and swayed in time with Peter, her feet felt as though they were barely touching the floor it was so natural. Her head was swimming, but she didn't mind. She felt a giggle forming in her chest, and beamed at Peter as he took her by the waist as he had back then. She had complete faith in him as he thrust her away and she seamlessly slipped to the other side of the room, where he strode forward to meet her. Their dance continued effortlessly for a while longer, until Wendy started to realise that she didn't want to continue. She would have danced with Peter like that forever, but they couldn't keep relying on a memory. Especially when that memory ended in the conversation that had driven them apart in the first place. She didn't want it to end the same way, and so she came to a halt. She looked up at Peter to speak. His face was flushed, glowing almost.

"I… hoped we could get some dance practice in before tomorrow." She said sheepishly.

Peter smirked at her. "I don't think we need any." He said. She couldn't help but laugh with him.

 **...**

 **((A/N: Thanks to all of you who have read this far ~ Updates soon.  
Author Out))**


	18. Chapter 18

**((A/N: Unto Xx-Lost-In-The-EchoxX, for the services of their continued feedback and support, I bequeath the good fortune I received upon opening my last fortune cookie: "A short stranger will soon grant you favourable news."  
Use it wisely.  
Author Out.))  
**

 **CHAPTER 18**

 ** _Tinkerbell stood nervously by the window, having resumed her position. She had almost been discovered, but she was determined not to be involved just yet. If she wasn't involved she couldn't possibly take blame, and be banished again. She knew for a fact that lying to Peter was not one of her specialties, so she had to be careful._**

 ** _She watched the two as their dance came to an end, thankful that they hadn't gotten any closer. They weren't right for each other, Tinkerbell knew that. Soon they would drift apart and go back to their own worlds, but for the time being she was content to see them saying their farewells and parting ways. Peter was smiling, which was good, but after they spoke for a moment, he nodded and made his way out. Tinkerbell tracked him through windows around the house as he took the stairs and settled in the living room. She didn't have to wait long now. This time tomorrow Peter would leave the ball, alone, and she would be waiting to console him and lead him back home._**

 ** _…_**

The day next day Wendy was awoken from a beautiful dream. She tried to remember what had happened to make it so uplifting, but all she could see were images of her and Peter together. Ordinarily such a thing would have no significance, but to Wendy it was wonderful, because she would never see those images for herself. Completely ordinary things: making a meal together; talking; strolling through some park as if they had all the time in the world. These things were impossible, because she didn't have all the time in the world. She only had today.

She did her best to reacquaint herself with reality adamant that she would not waste any more time, but it was difficult when what greeted her in the kitchen was one such wonderfully ordinary sight. Peter was sitting at the kitchen table eating toast that he had obviously made himself given half was burnt. Wendy smiled at him fully expecting him not to understand, but he returned it as soon as he spotted her in the doorway.

"Wendy… I didn't want to wake you up. John told me how to make toast the same as we ate before but, but it didn't come out right…"

The boys must have seen him when they left for school that morning. Wendy felt a pang of guilt realising then that Peter had been up for more than an hour. During that time he had obviously also found his shirt and shorts in the clean linen. She looked over and realised that the burnt toast he was eating was actually the final product of several practice attempts: almost half a loaf lay discarded, blackened to a crisp on the counter. So they were out of bread it seemed. Peter offered her some of the more promising slices, but she had a better idea.

"No thank you, I'll find something else. I need to visit the shops after all… Would you mind escorting me?" He stood and smiled his agreement.

Wendy agreed to wait in her room, and found herself in front of the mirror. She turned her head one way and the other. She saw herself as a stranger somehow. She was still getting her head around the opposing images of the Wendy that had spent all of last night in humdrum bliss with a grown up Peter, and the Wendy before that who had danced with him in her night dress and vines. She wasn't sure which one she preferred. She wanted both, but knew that one couldn't exist alongside the other. She touched her cheekbone, wondering when her face had grown so different. A sad smile crossed her lips. Here she was acting as though she could choose, when she had grown up already, whether she liked it or not.

Her eyes fell from the mirror, trying to push the thought from her mind… And landed on the vines she had ripped from the wall the day before. She picked them up and brushed off some dried dirt, placing them atop the cupboard. She swept up her hair into a messy pony-tail and tried it out as a hair tie. She looked almost professional, but she could still see the younger Wendy too, having rediscovered her mischievous smile. She nodded at herself in approval and walked out into the hallway to see that Peter had returned fully equipped as Master Pan. She brushed imaginary dust from the shoulders of his suit jacket.  
"Very smart." She said playfully. That earned her a smirk as he proudly raised an eyebrow at her.

They headed downstairs and Wendy opened the door a crack to check that nobody was on the street outside to see them. When she gave the all clear to Peter he slipped outside. Then it was just a case of Wendy pretending he had come to meet her at the door. She took his newly suited arm, looking up at him. She couldn't help but wonder… Which Peter was this?

Did any other Peter even exist? Looking at him all she could see, was Peter. _Her_ Peter. Who had danced and fought and flown… and used up all of their bread. The thought made her laugh.

"What's so funny?" Peter said patting down his hair.

"Nothing." She said, with her newly found smile.

They stopped at the grocery store first so that Wendy could step inside to thank Mrs Davis for the time off.

"Thank you again, I'm so sorry I couldn't be more available, are you sure it's-"  
"Nonsense," The senior woman replied, waving a hand at Wendy. "You take all the time you like." She said ambiguously as she nodded her head at Peter through the shop window. Wendy tried not to cringe, feeling as if she was conning the kind old woman.

"It's really not that important, all the preparations have been made so I don't need it really…"

"It's not the time you need, it's the time you should have." She said, giving Wendy the impression that she wasn't talking about the ball anymore. "Use it wisely." With that, she ushered Wendy out of the shop, seeing her off with a kind wave. Wendy wouldn't complain, the woman was right after all.

The two walked a little further to the bakery, picking up bread. Wendy also insisted that she treat Peter to one of her favourites: the lemon tart they sold, to which Peter complained that he would much prefer cake. As they made their way down the street arguing about nonsense, Wendy could almost see her dream coming true. And yet… there was something missing still. Was this really everything she wanted? She had been so sure, and yet now, thinking about a life with an ordinary Peter… Somehow it didn't suit him. How could he be her Peter, truly, if he was ordinary?

She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't heard Peter's question, but she soon realised there was something amiss as they had stopped outside of a local workshop. Peter was looking at her expectantly.

"Oh, sorry I wasn't paying attention. Is something wrong?"

"I was just wondering," He started again cautiously, pointing an inconspicuous hand at the shop front. "If that usually happens…"

Wendy glanced at the shop, and then back at Peter, not really understanding. That was until she _really_ looked. He was right: She could see half a dozen clock faces on the far side of the shop ticking away in time with one another… And then she could see half a dozen more on the side nearest them that had stopped dead. Wendy looked at Peter's slightly alarmed but nonetheless amused expression, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh in complete wonderment.

"You!" she pointed an accusing finger at him.  
"What!" he put his hands up in surrender.  
"You're the one who broke my alarm clock!" She couldn't hold it in then, she laughed helplessly at the absurdity of it all. Even when he was at his most ordinary, Peter wasn't ordinary after all. The thought lifted her spirits all afternoon. It allowed her to see their apparently everyday activity of enjoying lemon tarts in the park together in a whole new light. Even when their late morning outing became late afternoon and she had to prepare for her dress appointment once again, Wendy couldn't wipe the grin from her face **.**


	19. Chapter 19

**((A/N: Thanks Nikanox for the Favourite/Follow  
Here's a little update for you. Author Out.))**

 **CHAPTER 19**

When they arrived at the front door, there were a few too many by standers on the street outside. Most probably other young men and women who had been granted time for their preparations. Wendy could have sworn she saw the girl who had come up to her at the green grocers.

Peter had noticed too. She didn't need to say a word, he just nodded.

"I still have time. I'll just walk around until it's less crowded." He said quietly, giving her a bow for show and an encouraging smile.

"Thank you."

Wendy shut the door and rested against it for a moment. He would be back soon, and she didn't have to leave yet: her appointment wasn't for an hour.

She took a deep breath and walked upstairs to gather her things. As she passed the open door to her parents' bedroom she realised the bed covers were still dishevelled and walked in to put them right. On her way out she caught her reflection in the mirror. The vines in her hair had come loose. She carefully took them out and laid them down on the mantle letting her hair down again. Her mother's jewellery box stood to one side of her, open as her mother always kept it. The pearl necklace she used for very formal events lay on top.

Wendy had tried them on before when she was small, she remembered. Although her mother had humoured her telling her she looked like a princess, Wendy knew they hadn't suited her. They had been much too big at the time, and Wendy had been just a child. She brushed the necklace gently with her fingers. Yes, Wendy wasn't a child anymore, but she was hardly her mother. Her mother was wise, and beautiful… She had found a husband and started a family.

It was only then that Wendy realised that she envied her mother for those things. Had she been acting childish after all? Refusing to entertain the idea of marriage so dismissively when deep down, she could see herself wanting that life. After everyone had done their best to get her into the event… What would her mother say if she knew the ridiculous plot they'd put in place, all to avoid finding Wendy someone who might be able to give her those things. What if Aunt Millicent was right..? What if there _was_ something wrong with her? What if she was the one who ended up alone in spite of all her parents' hard work… A fully grown woman with a child's heart…

The sound of footsteps on the stairs startled her making her drop the pearls back in their box before turning to the door.

"Oh," She breathed a sigh of relief, "Peter you scared me."

"Sorry. I had to get inside while I was still alone, I thought knocking and waiting at the door would bad a bad idea."

"I suppose…" Peter seemed to hear something in her voice.

"What's wrong?" He walked in and took her hand.

"Nothing really,"

"Is it the ball?" Wendy looked at him not really knowing what to say. It was, more or less. Peter took her lack of reply as a 'yes'. "Don't worry about it." He gave her a reassuring smile. "We'll attend, and dance, but that's all we have to do, and then the whole thing can be over with and you can come back home."

Wendy found herself a little disappointed in the way he oversimplified it all.

"It might be something little and insignificant for us, but it's no small event, Peter…" He looked at her curiously. "It can be really important, for some people. For _some_ people it's the night that decides who they spend the rest of their lives with." Peter's eyes fell.

"But they don't have to. What is the big deal with matching and marriages anyway…?" Wendy became suddenly scared that she could say something wrong here that would send him away like she had last time, so she chose her words carefully.

"Well, you see sometimes, it can be a really wonderful thing. It can make people really happy, if you do it right."

"'Right'?"

"Yes… It's a way for someone to tell you that they want to spend their life with you, to share it with you… And take care of you."

Peter let her finish, and then paused, squeezing her hand lightly. Wendy sensed that his smile wasn't all genuine, but further than that she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Maybe he just hated the idea so much that he was willing to stand there and ignore it being praised.

The doorbell rang.

"I'll go see who it is." He said quietly, and left the room. Wendy watched his back, wondering if she was missing something… His voice came back shortly as she heard the front door open. "It's Slightly."

"Are you still here?" Slightly half-called up the stairs following Peter's lead. "Aren't you going to be late?"

"Yes, I'm here I was just leaving." She took one last look in the mirror, and decided to borrow her mother's pearls. She was curious to see how they would look on her as she tried to act like the woman her Aunt Millicent wanted her to be. She picked up her bag and passed the two boys on her way out.  
Before she reached the road she stopped and turned.

"I'll see you at the ball then?" She said to the two of them.

"Of course, we wouldn't miss it." Slightly called back.

 **…**

 **"I brought over all the things you need for tonight." Slightly told Peter after he'd closed the door. He seemed a little tense. Probably nerves. Peter knew he should be feeling something similar, or at least looking forward to the pinnacle of this whole display, but he wasn't feeling a lot. There was a thought creeping around in the back of his mind, something that threatened to swallow up every inch of joy he had found.**

 ** _What if their worlds were too different after all?_** **  
Peter had of course made a point of telling Slightly that he could** ** _possibly_** **stand to see Wendy walk away from the ball with a more suitable partner, but he had never thought he would hear it from her. The way she had spoken about it had made it obvious that she wanted something more… So if she chose somebody else tonight, every hope Peter had would be dashed. It wouldn't be a case of gallantry or settling for someone who could stay with her in this world; it wouldn't be settling at all because she would want the other man more.**

 **The same thought circled his brain over and over as he changed into his new trousers and suit jacket; as he brushed off his top hat; as he tied his expensive cravat, after all he'd done it so many times now that it needed no thought. Was this right? Was this who he was? He wanted nothing more than so be with her… But he also wanted what she wanted… He wanted her to be happy… And he couldn't afford to have his entire lifestyle absorbed into this set up just to have it ripped away from him. He looked down at his neatly cuffed hands, not knowing what to do.**

 **He looked out of the window thinking about his home. It wasn't yet dark, but the first star: the brightest, had appeared in the sky.**

 **…**

 ** _Slightly walked in, dressed, to find a Peter he barely recognised: He was in his most expensive suit, brilliant emerald cravat perfectly knotted, looking out of the window with a lost expression on his face. He realised the irony of that idea given that Peter was the unquestioned leader of the Lost Boys. But there was a reason for that. Peter didn't become lost. Peter was a sure thing, he was the best there ever had been and never doubted himself for a second. That was, with the exception of Wendy._**

 ** _"Peter, are you feeling okay?" Slightly ventured. At first he thought perhaps Peter didn't hear him, so he tried again."Peter,"_**

 ** _"Would you go ahead of me?" Peter interrupted._**

 ** _"Ahead? Why?" Slightly realised then perhaps it was nerves and thought it best not to bring it up. "Oh, people would ask questions if we arrived together. Of course."_**

 ** _"Yeah."_**

 ** _"Okay. Well, we still have time, but going early won't hurt. I'll see you inside?"_**

 ** _Peter just nodded at him._**


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER 20**

The dress maker stood behind her as the pearls rested delicately over her neck and the clasp was closed. It was the final touch on the picture perfect image. Wendy was scared to breathe. She had been there for what seemed like hours, but now she could see everything: the fitted sky blue ball gown that highlighted her figure and cascaded over her hip; the way her hair looked completely natural and yet impossibly and perfectly tousled at the same time; the colour of her blush seamlessly deepened and her eyes dark, with thick long lashes. She wore no jewellery but the fine row of pearls and a simple brooch fashioned in the shape of a delicate silver leaf.

The dress maker had given her very little information on her decision making. But the woman _had_ mentioned that this colour of blue brought out her eyes, so she was surprised when she walked in with a set of crystal clear shoes. They looked so dainty that Wendy was scared to use them, these items were not hers to break after all. Nevertheless, she allowed the dress maker to take her arm, guiding her into them one at a time. Finally the woman nodded, appraising her in the mirror as if she were an art project. She picked up a quaint blue purse and looped the cord over her wrist. Wendy wondered what Aunt Millicent had done to arrange such a lavish appointment, and suddenly felt even guiltier that her plan had been to avoid this at all costs. Her parents and Aunt had done so much, she really should have been taking it more seriously. With that in mind she composed herself, laid her thick fur stole about her shoulders and took her first steps from the shop toward the dance hall.

 **…**

 ** _Tinkerbell sat on a rooftop overlooking the house Peter had been preparing in. She shivered impatiently, wondering why she was sat here in the cold when she could be enjoying the Neverland sun's rays with a fruity tribal beverage… No, she had a duty to perform. She had to wait this out no matter what the conditions to make sure Peter came home._**

 ** _Just then Peter appeared at the window. He seemed to be speaking to someone. His head turned toward the window and she automatically ducked behind a chimney, before realising that he was looking up at the sky… At what?  
She tried to follow his gaze and found the only thing to be seen there: The first star in the sky. Tinkerbell couldn't see it yet, but she knew that two stars right of it was what Peter was searching for. _**

**_Tinkerbell crossed her arms triumphantly. Perhaps she wouldn't have to wait so long after all…_**

 ** _…_**

Wendy approached the hall doors. There were more people than she had been expecting. Women in gowns of every conceivable colour sporting all manor of jewels and feathers; men in newly bought suits, ties, shoes… Some seemed to have borrowed an item here and there, as they quite obviously didn't fit.  
All paraded themselves in and out of the entrance, smiling at one another and making polite chit-chat. She took a deep breath to calm herself, straightened her back and walked up carefully so as not to trip in her heels. When she got close enough to be noticed there was a hush in the conversation; her stomach knotted up. She stopped abruptly, her legs growing heavy with the weight of the attention. She lifted her head to see more than a few people looking at her. She wasn't sure what to do, until one man smiled. He took off his hat and gave her a short bow. She remembered then that she wasn't Wendy the little girl, or even Wendy the shop attendant: tonight she was walking in as the woman from the dressmaker's mirror.

She took two small handfuls of material and gave the man a polite curtsy in return. After that others seemed to follow suit and Wendy was surprised to see a host of young men removing their hats as she moved into the dance hall. She tried to hide her smile, not wanting to seem pretentious, but it surfaced when she spotted Slightly indoors. She made her way through the crowd toward him.

"Wen-" Slightly's eyes showed his surprise. "-Wendy… You look stunning."

"I don't feel like myself at all… But I don't mind an awful lot." She said trying not to smile too widely in spite of herself. She scanned the crowd eagerly seeking another familiar face.

"Oh, Peter isn't here yet…" Slightly knew what she was thinking.

"He isn't? I thought he was arriving with you." In the corner of the room a small orchestra began to play their first piece, signifying the official beginning of the event. Everyone around them started to look for their first partner.

"He was, but he wanted to split up, since nobody knows that he and I have any relation to one another. That said, I don't understand, he should be here by now…" Slightly continued to scan the room, until his eyes seem to get caught at the door and his voice trailed off. Wendy turned hoping to see Peter but instead she saw a girl. She had just walked in, and was standing awkwardly by the door in a delicate rose pink dress. Her hair had obviously been altered by a professional, but nonetheless she seemed to be having trouble with one piece that refused to lay flat as she patted it down at every opportunity.

"I…" Slightly was obviously no longer with her. "Have to go…" He said dreamily.

"Go." Wendy said with a supporting smile. "She looks like she'd enjoy your company." Wendy assured him. It seemed to hold true as she watched the girl's face light up at the sight of him. She was glad they had this chance to choose each other.

But her partner was nowhere to be seen… She looked around once more, but only succeeded in finding herself the only lone guest in a sea of couples. She could suddenly feel the pressure on her now that she was amongst it all without her back up plan. She panicked. She waited until the other two had cleared the door and then made a hasty attempt to leave without being noticed. She was almost back in the entryway when a hand caught her elbow.

"You're leaving so soon?" A voice asked. Wendy turned to find a young man with russet hair, his suited arm outstretched to her. He looked to be slightly more prepared than most for the occasion: all his clothes were well chosen and matched, with discretely ornate cuff links hidden by his sleeves. As she turned his hand dropped from her elbow and took hers. "I thought I wasn't going to reach you in time." He laughed modestly. "Would you consider just one dance? Since you already came this far."

He was right of course, it would be childish to leave having taken no part in the event that had needed so much preparation.

"I suppose I could…" She smiled politely, allowing herself to be lead back to the dance floor. The music and the bustle of people made it hard to hear, so he simply stopped and made a point of bowing for her. She once again managed a shy curtsy before she took his hand and began stepping in time to his lead. "I'm sorry, I've never attended such a large event before..." Once they were dancing they were within talking distance again, and she felt obligated to try and explain her behaviour.

"Neither have I… I was coerced by my family. I didn't think I would come tonight…" He admitted with a bashful expression. Wendy laughed, thankful that she wasn't the only one. She thought it strange though, that he was so at home here having never attended a ball before. "But then I saw you just now from across the room," He continued, "and I was glad I did." Wendy looked up at him, surprisingly happy about the simple compliment. He stood less than half a foot taller than her, with a kind face and what seemed to be a very down to earth attitude. She couldn't help but realise that her parents would love him. She supposed she should at least see who this man was, before she completely disregarded him.

 **...**

 **((A/N: Thanks to Sky2585 for the feedback, glad you're enjoying it. I hope you'll forgive me for the font: it began as a method to keep myself on track and in character, and it just stuck. If anyone has similar thoughts about it please let me know; if it's just an eyesore I'll reconsider.  
And Thanks to Blackmist45, here's the next chapter for you.**

 **Author Out.))**


	21. Chapter 21

**((A/N: Back on track. Hope it's worth the wait. As always any feedback is appreciated as it helps me focus on what you guys are responding to. Please do keep it coming.  
Author Out.))**

 **CHAPTER 21**

"I'm Wendy by the way… Sorry, I didn't catch your name?" She said suggestively. It wasn't exactly subtle, but it was a given at these events that at some point in the conversation one would investigate the origins of their partner: their parentage; their prospects; their reputation. Wendy didn't much like the way these affairs were carried out but then she was an anomaly in this dance hall. After all no-one else here would look twice at the eccentric boy who had appeared at her window with no parentage or job prospects to speak of. In these cases it was always the man who presented himself first, so her second name didn't hold much importance yet.

"I'm Vincent… Vincent Glover." Wendy remembered something one of the girls in the green grocer's had mentioned.

"Glover as in… the tailor?" Wendy didn't know much about the man, but his shop certainly seemed to have status.

"You found me out." He smiled. "Yes, I shamefully admit, my being here was covered by the profits of everyone else's preparation." He said with a look of guilt on his face.

"I didn't realise the son of such a… _distinguished_ business owner would need to attend an event like this…" She decided to try her hand at flattery.

"And what of you?" He smiled. "I heard a peculiar story recently, about a fair lady 'Wendy' who was being pursued by a fine young Lord."

"He's not a lord-" Wendy said without thinking. "Or, he could be, I'm not sure."

"Ah, so it is you." He raised a teasing eyebrow. "So what need does someone with such an outstanding suitor have to be here?"

Wendy opened her mouth, but had no answer. "It's… complicated."

"Somebody said that he was to escort you, but you seem to be alone. Where is he?"

Wendy had to be honest. "I don't know…"

 **…**

 **Peter had been pacing up and down a road half way between the dance hall and the house. He was desperately hoping to see Slightly outdoors by some miracle. At least he would have had another person to turn to then. He had been slowly driving himself insane with the mounting pressure. He'd come to a decision to leave the house but had become nervous again before he could reach his destination. Just as he was about to change course for the third time, something caught his eye. It had been subtle and Peter kept his eyes trained on the road, but he would recognise it anywhere: the twinkle of fairy light.**

 **So she was here. Of course she would be here. Peter realised suddenly what that meant: He had a way home. He could catch Tink and have the others come to take him back. He could see the faint light of the dance hall leaking out onto the street in the distance. He could leave now and be free of this stress and anxiety once and for all. He didn't need this in his life, he never wanted to grow up and he wouldn't have to, not now not ever.  
He took a deep breath ready to call out… **

**And then he saw her.**

 **She was making careful steps toward the entrance, draped in the perfect blue of a Neverland sky. Peter's breath faded in his lungs as he watched her being greeted by men at the door. He could just make out her shy smile and the way a lock of her hair fell loose as she dipped into a curtsy, and then she disappeared indoors. As soon as he had lost sight of her he felt himself urged forward, something telling him that it was where he needed to be without a doubt. His chest felt once more like it was going to burst open: his heart beating up against his ribcage, as if trying to escape. But this time he wasn't afraid.  
Peter smiled. So this was it. This was 'love'?**

 **As simply as that, there was no more decision to make. He nodded to himself resolutely, and walked toward the dance hall.**

 **…**

"Pardon me but," Vincent began apologetically, "whoever this man is, he should feel wretched for what he's lost."

Lost… Wendy found her smile fading. The word chimed in her head. The finality with which he said it annoyed her. It was so out of place in this conversation. Nothing about Peter and the word 'lost' matched up. He had lost nothing, and never would. Peter only gained. Even in defeat, Peter had only succeeded in becoming the bigger man. She remembered his calm expression as he smiled up at hook from where he lay against cold rock.  
"Lost? Who says he's lost anything?" Wendy asked heatedly, stopping awkwardly so as to cause her partner to stumble. If something became out of Peter's reach, it was simply because he felt no need to pursue it. Because if he did…  
"Well I thought-" Vincent paused to correct himself, but before he could explain further Wendy became aware of something gathering attention at the entrance of the hall. She looked over to find it, and her eyes fell upon a dashing figure; he had just entered the hall amongst frantic hushes and captivated looks. His eyes found her in the crowd and at once he removed his hat, laying it on a nearby table. He had the strangest look on his face.

"Peter…" Wendy said in a breath. She assumed Vincent had taken that as his queue to leave but she couldn't be sure: She was past noticing him. She could see now why all these stories had surfaced: Peter did look like a lord. He was immaculately dressed, a cravat of bright emerald tied perfectly over a white shirt collar and a grey vest, finished with a black suit jacket. As was Peter's nature he wore it as if he had done every day of his life. He made his way through the bystanders and dancing pairs slowly to reach her side just as the music came to an end.

"Wendy…" He said her name softly. "There's something I have to tell you…" There was a second's delay, and then the beginnings of a new composition drifted through the air marking a new dance. Peter looked over to the musicians and seemed to decide that it could wait. He smiled and held out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly as everyone in the hall transformed themselves into new pairings. She followed Peter's lead, thankful that their first dance wasn't as lively as the one they had shared earlier.

"I thought you weren't going to come…" She said quietly hoping he could still hear her.

"I had to come." He said simply. She realised then the pressure she had been putting him under.

"I'm sorry, you didn't have to… I know everyone started talking, and we made our plan but…"  
Peter didn't respond. He looked a little awkward, as if he couldn't decide what to do: His eyes were seemingly unable to settle on anything. Then Wendy felt her heart skip. She felt Peter's strong arms slowly urging her closer. She looked around at the other dancers, face burning, and couldn't understand how they were unable to see the intimacy of her situation. Then Peter's voice came again.

"This ball… It's important, isn't it?" He said a little vulnerably. "I saw you dancing just now… You seemed happy."

"Oh, no Peter it's not like that-"

"Your mother and father, they're hoping that you come home with a man, aren't they?" he said it as a fact.

"I… I suppose so. But I never-" Once again she was cut off.

"You should…" He said simply. She didn't understand…

"I should, what?" Wendy could feel the dread building in her chest. Was this it? Was this how her fairy-tale would come to an end? She didn't know if she was ready.

"You should find a man… You don't deserve to be alone…" Peter's arms held tight, keeping her at a distance too close to see him.

"No… No Peter I can't," She heard the fear in her voice. "I won't, not if it means leaving you." She could feel her heart breaking in two.  
"What if…" Peter began. Wendy finally moved enough to see his face. They had already stopped dancing, and stood face to face in the middle of the hall. Peter was looking deep into her eyes. "What if it didn't…?"

"What… Peter I don't understand." She searched his eyes for any hint of meaning. Not leaving Peter? Wendy didn't have time to think: His hand came up, brushing her arm delicately in the process. His fingertips caught her chin gently and lifted it, leaving her neck exposed…


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**

 ** _Tinkerbell was doing her best not to be seen, but it was difficult tailing Peter into such a crowded building. She had to jump from hanging plant to wall display, hat to coat, sneaking her way indoors. She had thought for sure that he'd never get here, but he'd ended up entering the hall anyway. She supposed she would have to find somewhere comfortable to view it all from. After all, she may not even be here yet. Who knew how long it would take them to find each other if she was. They would talk a while to each other, perhaps to other people before realising that it was Peter's time to leave. Tinkerbell had to feel bad for him but she knew he would be happier at home with her again. She finally found a suitable hiding spot behind a clock on a mantelpiece and looked up to find Peter._**

 ** _Her eyes scanned the crowd, and rested upon the familiar mop of golden hair. She blinked once, twice, her mouth falling open. He was dancing, with her… His hand was reaching up toward her face, his head leaning in toward her… No! No, this wasn't supposed to happen!_**  
 ** _Tink shot forward in a flash without another thought, losing all of what little composure she could fit in her small body. She tried desperately to reach him in time, but in the last seconds she realised it was too late. She made to stop but only caused herself to go careering out of control with the momentum she'd gathered, and before she knew it she was colliding with the back of Peter's head. The force of it knocked the wind out of her and she fell unceremoniously to the floor._**

 ** _…_**

 ** _Slightly was enjoying his third dance with his mystery woman. The whole experience would have surely looked absurd to anyone else: They had been dancing and enjoying each others company for so long already, but had yet to introduce themselves. He was aware of all the other couples around them following proper procedure, but somehow they hadn't needed to. He had simply walked up and she seemed to recognise him immediately, which he found surprising. She had smiled such a bright beautiful smile at him, and they had drifted to the dance floor without so much as a hello. As the music of the first dance ended, he had become scared that she might leave to find a new partner and so had plucked up the courage to begin speaking, but only to tell her how much he loved the way her hair never settled. She had seemed to like that, and had stopped patting it so anxiously. Soon after she had startled him with a haphazard confession about the book she hadn't really been reading in the book shop. When he told her he had realised as much, they had laughed about it and the smiles hadn't left their faces since. It was only when they turned in their dance and Slightly's eye caught Peter in the distance that he faltered. He had almost forgotten. He breathed a small sigh of relief seeing that they'd found each other without his help. It wasn't his job exactly but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had left his post. Then he saw Peter pull Wendy close, and he suddenly realised what was happening. What was he doing? This was a horrible idea… Having been there the last time they kissed, Slightly couldn't help but think it could be an unmitigated disaster in a crowded hall like this. But then he supposed that was unlikely to happen, given that Peter was here alone and grounded._**

 ** _That was, until a jealous ball of light shot through the mass of people and hit the back of his head, exploding in a cloud of fairy dust. He watched a witless Tinkerbell drop to the floor, before the dread set in. This did not bode well. As he watched, the embracing forms of Wendy and Peter began to shimmer, the dust settling. They were far too busy to notice, but once their feet had risen clear of the floor it was hard not to see. Slightly said a rushed apology to his partner, and did his best to fight his way through the crowd to reach them, but it was no use: he was interrupted by leg after leg, couple after swirling couple, it was futile. He watched on helplessly as the gasping began, the awareness rippled through the crowd like a wave and one by one the guests turned to see the spectacle…_**

 ** _He was in the middle of forming a hundred explanations and half-plans to escape, when he noticed something. Peter was glowing, but it wasn't the same as on the Roger… Last time it had been a fuse, just waiting to go off, and everyone had felt it. Peter's young heart simply hadn't been able to hold it all and inevitably he had detonated. Here, the eerie glow seemed to pulse outward steadily growing in size like the light of a new fire. It reached out as an otherworldly bubble, and every person it touched seemed to find new interest in their dancing partner and hence completely ignore the floating couple. He raised an eyebrow peculiarly, but was nonetheless glad that it seemed to solve their problem._**

 ** _…_**

Wendy's breath caught in her throat as she realised what was happening. Peter's soft hand guided her lips toward his… Her heart was fluttering in time to the music when they met, and she felt the warmth of his mouth, as though for the first time. She knew in the back of her mind that this wasn't the first, but something had changed. Their last kiss had been a gift, from Wendy to Peter. It was two parts love and one part apology, and even then the love she had done it for wasn't anything she could ever express to him.

This was different. When their lips met, though her eyes had fallen shut she could have sworn the very world seemed to brighten around them. She felt giddy and feather light. She hardly knew what to do with herself. The slightest movement Peter made sent chills down her arms. She could have stayed there forever, but all too soon Peter pulled away from her. When she opened her eyes she found a flushed Peter, his entire body giving off a warm glow. He didn't speak for a moment, which she was glad of because she wasn't sure she could concentrate just yet.

"Choose me, Wendy..."

"What? Peter... I-" She instinctively looked away to gather her thoughts, unable to take the heat of his gaze… And then gasped, clutching Peter close.

He seemed not to notice what she saw, perhaps already too used to the sensation, but when Wendy looked down and found her feet so far from the floor it was hard to not take notice. Still he seemingly ignored it, holding her in his arms.  
"Wendy, what is it?" He let out a sudden 'ouch' as his head hit something. He looked up to see what, apparently mystified, and found it was the ceiling. Only then did he attempt to take in his surroundings. He blinked down at the moving crowd of people. His face lit up at once, in more ways than one.

"I can fly… I can fly! Wendy I'm cured!" He said with childish glee. Wendy just clung to him for dear life not liking the idea of her body making impact with the floor from such a height.

"Peter, that's wonderful! I just… wonder if we could go back down..?" She said hesitantly.

"Back down there? But it's so crowded… There's so much more room up here!" He demonstrated the point with a grin as he took her hand and flung her out into a spin. She squeaked and squeezed her eyes shut ready to plummet… But she opened them to find herself at arms length, hovering above the others. She looked back to him, her smile emerging once again, and let out a relieved laugh as Peter pulled her back in and spun her around, just as he had in fairy hollow. Her worries gradually started to slip away from her as she twirled, her dress gliding around her as she enjoyed their little pocket of fantasy high above the others.

...

 **((A/N: I have a few half-ideas, but also on course to wrap this up soon, so let me know your thoughts; might help me decide whether to squeeze a couple more in and keep it going, or box 'em up to develop for a (potential) 'Part 2' story later on.  
Thanks to ****claribellepagan for the favourite and the review, gotta love the reviews.))  
Author Out.))  
**


	23. Chapter 23

**((A/N: Thanks to Saatje14 for the favourite, and to LeigonClaimed for the follow. hope you're enjoying it.  
And Thank you ****_very much_** **lulu923, I'm really glad you took the time to write...)) **

**CHAPTER 23**  
"So," Peter said in a low voice, leaning his head to look at her in spite of how close they were. "I guess I have your heart after all…"

"Of course you do." She said a little embarrassed. Wasn't that obvious? Wasn't that why he'd been keeping her at such a distance this whole time?

"Then, you love me?" He asked her more boldly than she had thought he would. Wendy felt the heat rushing to her face but managed a small nod. "Then I wanna stay with you. Choose me, Wendy. You can: I'm your suitor."

He was right. He had come here to be Wendy's match, it all fit. There was almost nothing stopping her… Nothing but…  
"But Peter, if I chose you, people would expect… I mean, my mother and father would-" She cut herself off then, not sure if the mention of her parents would introduce a new problem altogether. After all, Peter had never met them.  
"Expect me to marry you?" Wendy just looked at him. Hearing him say the words almost stunned her to silence. She wasn't sure how much he knew or how he would react. Marriage was something different entirely, she couldn't possibly be so selfish as to tie him down, not such a free spirit as Peter.

"I don't think you want that." She said with her bravest smile. "I wouldn't expect you to stay here, for me."

"Wendy." He took her hands firmly. "I want to share my life with you. And I wanna share yours. I wanna do all those things you talked about. From the minute I saw you at your window, you changed everything... Please Wendy…" His eyebrows knitted together as he spoke, as if he didn't quite understand his own honesty. "My life isn't gonna be the same without you. I want you to be in it, forever…"

Wendy didn't know what to say. Suddenly she was back on her bedroom window sill: the girl in her nightdress. She could almost feel the cold night air beckoning her forward. She had a choice: she could step back inside to the warm comfort of her ordinary life…

"Forever… is an awfully long time."

Peter lifted her hand between them, a question in his eyes.

… Or she could take the leap.

She let out a smile, and nodded simply. Peter's eyes lit up. His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.  
Then something seemed to occur to him giving him.

"I know I always called myself 'Father' back in the hideout," He admitted worriedly, "but I don't really know how to be a husband…"

"Just be yourself, Peter. That's all I'll ever want." She said, believing it more as she heard herself. It was enough to bring back his smile, which was a start. Somehow even his nervousness reassured her. It showed that he was really thinking about what he was promising to do. Peter, a _husband_ … He wasn't going to leave. Wendy's head was swimming. Though, she couldn't be sure whether the effect was more due to so much happiness or re-finding her ability to fly after so many years. Thinking about it again, she started to doubt her skill. That sliver of doubt stood no chance in the face of her overwhelming joy, but it allowed her to slip just enough to concern her. She looked down again at the apparently oblivious crowd… Even Slightly was enjoying his company far too much to watch her and Peter. But then out of the corner of her eye she spotted one face amongst the rest: looking up, his eyes still wide with amazement. The only man in the dance hall without a partner. She panicked for a moment, realising who it was. She had begun considering how easy it would be to simply escape the dance hall through one of the windows leaving the others to their night, but now they had been spotted, and by someone who knew her no less… Or did he?

The tailor's son had only learnt her first name and confirmed that she was indeed the Wendy from the stories… But he knew nothing else about her. Perhaps he wouldn't recognise her after such a brief meeting. She didn't plan on being seen in her ball gown again any time soon. She wrestled with the idea a while, before realising that Peter was watching her.  
"Wendy, are you okay?"  
"Oh, yes. I was just… Thinking we should get out of here, find somewhere more spacious." She shrugged mischievously.  
Peter's grin was an unmistakeable agreement. He took her hand in his, his excitement tangible.  
"Are you ready?" he asked cryptically. Wendy didn't know what for, but she trusted him enough.  
"Yes-" As soon as she answered the breath was almost taken from her as Peter sped forward faster than she remembered he could, leading her toward the door. She instinctively used her free arm to cover her face, fully expecting to go colliding into the door arch, but at last minute she felt herself pulled clear of it. She was too scared to open her eyes but she could have sworn she felt her dress graze a top hat or two before the night air hit her. She blinked, finding herself spinning upward into the night sky. Peter was there with her, still hand in hand. She suddenly felt a weight being lifted from her.

It was Peter who had been grounded, but she could feel a change in herself too as she watched him soaring over rooftops just as they had back then. She hadn't realised. She had been looking at him differently somehow. She had been able to see past all his physical changes, his new attitude… but he hadn't really been _her_ Peter, he hadn't been whole until this moment.  
And now she would be with him. All of him. Her Peter. Forever.  
It sounded like an awfully big adventure. Just the kind she had been waiting for her entire life.

 **…**

 ** _Vincent stood stone still, his eyes trained on the door. This was bad… Very very bad. Normal people did not see things like that. Normal people did not imagine such ridiculous things with such vividness. He frantically tried to blink away the image, rubbing his eyes, but it wouldn't go. He set off at speed, pushing past couple after couple until he reached the door. He burst into the night, filling his lungs with air as if it was the last breath he would ever take. He could feel himself burning up. He had to forget what he had just seen, had to shove it the back of his mind… But he didn't know how. The sense of inexplicable dread had his heart racing. He didn't understand what was happening, but some part of his mind knew._**

 ** _He shook his head, but as he opened his eyes again a streak of starlight flew over his head out into the night. He gingerly lifted a hand to the tuft of hair it had disturbed as it shot by. Something stirred in the back of his mind. That light… He'd… seen it before, somewhere. Somewhere in the back of a far off forgotten dream._**

 ** _A flash of slurred images exploded into the front of his head, almost physically knocking him to his knees. The pain that accompanied it appeared as a white hot blaze in his mind, burning up the images as soon as they had appeared. He seized his head with both hands hoping desperately to stop it from combusting. Then it receded. He looked out at the street ahead, his vision clear once again. He had to get home._**

 ** _He walked into an empty house, not certain of whether he shut the door. He had to get back, to his room… To sleep._**  
 ** _His eyes scanned the room as he found his own bedroom in a daze, but instead of finding the bed they lay fixed on a cabinet. His body moved forward slowly, sedated steps leading him to… What, he didn't know._**  
 ** _His fingers itched to pull open the drawer; his body and mind suddenly too drained to fight it. Inside he found a dark felt pouch. At first he didn't see it at all, too used to it being part of the background, part of the draw even: It had been there for as long as he could remember. But as he touched it something changed. He picked it up. He untied the drawstrings and emptied the object out onto his palm. It was surprisingly heavy, and he realised probably quite valuable. Why did he have such a thing?_**  
 ** _It was his, he knew. He could feel it. But there was no knowledge or memory attached to it. Just a large gold medallion, around twice the size of a regular sovereign pound…_**

 **…**

 **((A/N: And here ends Part One.  
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Please leave anything and everything that you thought about it:  
good, bad, mad, disappointments, favourite quotes... one word to 2 pages, anything you got.  
And Finally,  
If you _liked this story_ , and believe it is _something other fans of the film would enjoy reading_ ,  
please help it get more exposure in the Peter Pan category by favouriting it, to show it's a worthwhile read.  
**

 **Thank you. Author Out.))  
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